


The Foxes and the Fae

by fairietailed



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Dobson, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Knight Thea, M/M, Magic, Multi, Neil Wymack, changeling Andrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 48,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairietailed/pseuds/fairietailed
Summary: Palmetto was a town that bordered on surreal; they were a town that lived alongside the beings that Abby liked to call Greenies or Wymack liked to call They Themselves or Betsy liked to call the Folk of the Air. The tourists, though, just called them “magic things”.-+-Or: a The Darkest Part of the Forest AU





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> some of these lines/descriptions are very similar to or pulled from the book itself, because they are too good to be changed.
> 
> I do not own this idea, and I beg you to please read the wonderful book that this AU is based off of!

Down a path worn into the woods, past a stream and a hollowed-out log full of pill bugs and termites, was a glass coffin. It rested right on the ground, and in it was a girl with skin the color of mahogany wood and ears as pointed as knives.

As far as the townsfolk knew, she had been there for years. She attracted tourists like a fly trap and the local kids like a cryptic mystery. She had appeared one day as if the forest had been built around her, the glass coffin gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the trees. She lay sound asleep, her eyes always closed, her chest rising and falling, and she never, ever woke up.

She didn't wake when visiting tourists sat on top of the coffin, taking pictures and posing in ridiculous ways. She didn't wake when children kissed the glass, hoping the rules of Sleeping Beauty could be bent a bit into their favor. She didn't wake when a certain boy knelt beside her, whispering promises through the glass as if the power of his words could bring her back into consciousness.

And she didn't wake now, as the local teenagers danced above her, raising solo cups above their heads and swaying to the music from old car speakers.

Neil watched them from across the clearing, half expecting the girls on top to slide off the sides.

“Neil!”

A voice called to him from behind, and he turned around just in time to see Matt before he clapped him on the back, grinning.

“We didn’t think you would come,” he said, and his grin grew wider, baring his teeth. “Well, Allison and Dan didn’t, so they owe me 50 bucks.”

Neil smiled back, angling his head in the direction of a very torn-looking Dan, and a waving Allison. “Glad I could help, I guess.”

“No Kevin?” Matt asked.

Neil shook his head, motioning toward the girls on top of the coffin. “He doesn’t usually come to these things. It bugs him to see her like that.”

“Being danced on, you mean?” Matt asked, taking a swig of the beer he was holding. “I can see that. It is kind of sad to watch.”

Neil only hummed as one of the girls climbed down, puking in the bushes behind the coffin. He frowned.

“Why are you here?” Matt asked. “Not that I’m not happy you are, I’m just curious as to why you decided to come. You’re hardly ever down for these things.”

Neil shrugged, his eyes scanning the crowd in front of him. “I guess I wanted to make sure that no one was going to try and break the coffin. Kevin would be upset.”

Matt knew as well as Neil did that that was a lie -- he knew that the coffin was impossible to break. Seth Gordon had tried, the year before last, taking a sledgehammer to the glass case in an attempt to wake the girl up. He ended up in the hospital 2 weeks later suffering third degree burns from a fire he’d attempted to start in the woods. He survived, but barely. No one had attempted anything since.

But Matt played along anyway, nodding as if Neil hadn’t come up with some last minute bullshit excuse.

“Renee is here,” he said instead, “and Robin and Nicky.” He paused, his eyes shifting to the other side of the clearing. “Aaron and his Monster are here, too.”

“He’s not a monster,” Neil said quietly, following Matt’s gaze. “He’s just kind of an ass.”

Andrew sat beside his brother on the other side of the glass coffin, his legs dangling off the tailgate of an old pickup truck. A cigarette hung from his lips, his lazy gaze watching the dancers on the coffin without interest. His eyes dropped to meet Neil’s, and he watched him for a minute, unblinking.

“I believe both of those statements are true,” Matt said, clapping Neil on the back one more time before leaving his side and making his way over to Dan and Allison. Neil rolled his eyes, heading toward the twins.

Aaron and Andrew were brothers -- or at least that’s what they and their mother said. Everyone knew, though, that it wasn’t technically true.

It was true enough, Neil thought, although they never really acted like it. Andrew was more Aaron’s protector than his brother, and if it were up to Aaron, Neil was pretty sure they wouldn’t be called brothers at all.

They lived across town with a woman named Betsy. She insisted everyone call her Bee, for reasons that Neil was not quite sure of. He always just called her Betsy.

She was Aaron and Andrew’s mother, a kind woman who was a psychologist in town, who never shied away from problems and who believed all of the stories that were told to her about the Folk, whether from tourists or residents, due to the fact that one of her sons was from the forest as well.

Palmetto was a town that bordered on surreal; they were a town that lived alongside the beings that Abby liked to call Greenies or Wymack liked to call They Themselves or Betsy liked to call the Folk of the Air. The tourists, though, just called them “magic things”. Every autumn portions of their harvest went to Tetsuji, the Great King of the Folk. The schoolchildren knew to never venture too far into the forest, where the dark faerie Riko and his men lay waiting, waiting for innocent people to snatch and take back to their castle to use as playthings. There was a hawthorn tree in a ring of stones where you could bargain with the King by tying a strip of your clothing to the branches under a full moon and waiting for one of the Folk to come, but those bargains always came with a price.

They were prices that the townsfolk knew better than to consider.

The tourists, though -- they were fair game.

That might have been the reason they thought Betsy’s child had been fair game, too. Her husband had been a tourist, marrying Betsy in another city before they moved back to Palmetto, where she had decided to open her practice. Her husband may have been from out of town, but she was not.

They had forgotten that Betsy Dobson had lived in Palmetto long ago. They had forgotten that Betsy had been raised to respect the Folk, to give them offerings and to wear her charms and to learn the rules. They had forgotten that Betsy knew how to handle herself, and knew exactly what they were.

It had taken her only half of a day to realize that Aaron had been taken.

In the span of a single morning she knew that the creature she held was not her son, but something entirely different. Within hours she had begun the process to get her son back, shooing her husband from the house and inviting some of the other women from the neighborhood to help her. They baked bread and chopped wood and filled an old earthenware bowl with salt. And when everything was done, she heated a poker in the fireplace.

She waited until the end of the poker had turned white hot before pulling it out of the flames.

She whispered her apologies to the child in front of her, then laid the searing poker across its forearms.

It screeched in pain so loudly that the windows of the house burst. The smell of fresh grass tossed onto an open flame filled the house around them, and then the child’s skin began bubbling, red and hot. It had left scars, ones that Neil had seen only once as Andrew had changed out the long black armbands that he wore over his forearms daily.

Burning a changeling summons its mother. She appeared only moments later, Aaron in tow. According to the stories Neil had heard, she was tall and thin, with hair the color of sun rays and her eyes the color of forest moss. Her skin was the same color as river stone. There was no mistaking her for a human.

“You do not take our children,” Betsy had said in lieu of greetings, calm and graceful and quiet, like an oncoming storm. “You don’t spirit us away or make us sick. That’s how things have worked around here for generations, and that’s how things will continue to be.”

The woman seemed to shrink, and she silently pushed Aaron toward the group of women as if in surrender.

“Take him,” she said, and Betsy did.

But when the woman had reached out to take back her changeling child, Betsy had stepped in front of him. One of the women who had come to help her pulled him back by the shoulders, holding him to her in defense.

“You cannot take him,” Betsy had said. She had passed Aaron to her sister and picked up iron and red berries and salt, to defend against the faerie woman’s magic. “If you were willing to trade him away, even for an hour, then you do not deserve him. I will keep them both and raise them as my own, equally as loved, the way that they deserve. Let this be our judgement on you for breaking oath with us.”

The elf woman had grown angry at that, her voice taking on the sound of waves breaking against rocks and seagulls crying out across the sea. “You have no power, no claim. Give me my child and I will place a blessing on your house. But if you keep him, you will come to regret it.”

“I assume I will,” said Betsy, according to the stories. “And when that day comes, I will accept it without question. But until then, this boy will be my son, and I ask that you take your leave.”

And so Andrew had come to live with Betsy, and Aaron had come to have a brother. Some of the townsfolk were still weary when Andrew passed by, and liked to whisper about the Monster that walked the streets of Palmetto. His power scared them, drove them away, and he always acted as though he couldn’t care less.

He was Aaron’s protector, everyone knew that, and if you attempted to fuck with either of them you may as well have checked yourself into the emergency room yourself.

You did not touch Andrew Dobson’s things without suffering the consequences.

Neil, however, seemed to enjoy ignoring the rules. He wasn’t sure how much time he had left to do so.

He gave a two finger salute as he approached the twins, ignoring Aaron’s glare and plucking Andrew’s cigarette from his mouth, taking a drag himself.

“Not even a full minute in my line of sight and I already want to kill you,” Andrew said, unfazed as he pulled another cigarette out of the pack in his jacket pocket.

“Not if Betsy kills you first,” Neil said, nodding at Andrew. “You know she hates it when you smoke.”

“She won’t do a thing,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. Neil smiled. It was true, and they both knew it.

“Where’s Kevin?” Aaron asked. “Crying at home over a few footprints on his girlfriend?”

“Probably.” Neil shrugged. “He’ll be here tomorrow with windex and a paper towel. She’s been through worse.”

Neil caught Aaron eyeing a cheerleader that had just entered the clearing, his eyes not leaving her as he hopped off the tailgate of the truck.

“I’m getting a beer,” he lied. “Try not to be a total dick while I’m gone.”

“I’ll certainly try my best,” Neil lied in return, taking the vacant spot beside Andrew. Aaron flipped him off as he headed across the clearing.

Andrew watched Aaron with a bored expression. Neil watched Andrew in return, comparing the twins’ slight differences and similarities.

They had the same facial features, and the same sun-spotted freckles dotting their noses. They were the same height, and had the same bored tone in their voice when they spoke. But Andrew had ears that pointed at the tips, and Aaron had a slightly rounded jawline, and Andrew’s eyes flashed gold and silver when he was frustrated or upset, instead of the dark hazel that Aaron’s constantly stayed. Andrew wore his black armbands to cover the scars the poker had left, and had three silver ear cuffs along the outside edge of his right ear.

Andrew took another drag of his cigarette, ashing it in Neil’s direction.

“You’re staring,” he said, and Neil smiled.

“So are you.”

“I’m making sure he doesn’t make a fool of himself,” Andrew replied. “You do that daily. There is no hope for you.”

“He’ll be fine,” Neil said, taking a drag of his own stolen cigarette. “You have to let him go sometime.”

“Not until she’s dead,” Andrew said curtly, and Neil couldn’t argue back.


	2. Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was what made Palmetto interesting: it was so close to magic. Dangerous magic, yes, but magic all the same.

When Kevin Day was a baby, before Neil had even been born, his mother had taken him out with her to sit in the clearing in the woods. It was the same spot that the coffin would be found in many years later, but it was empty then, the soft grass a perfect place for Kayleigh to spread out a blanket and her canvas and her paints, Kevin laying out beside her.

She had still been deciding on what colors to use when a faerie woman had entered the clearing, laughing and singing, surrounded by forest animals. She looked like something out of a movie, with skin the consistency of tree bark and moss colored hair, and Kayleigh had been struck with awe at the sight of her.

Kayleigh had been born in Palmetto, had heard all of the stories of the creatures that lived there. She had heard of red hats, the small beings that dyed their clothing in human blood. She’d heard the stories of Sorrow, the being that lived in the center of the forest, who would appear if you sang the schoolyard song that she and her friends would always sing, holding off on the last word to stop her from coming to snatch them from their games. She’d heard of hobgoblins and banshees and the spirits who lived in the lake that enjoyed drowning humans if they ventured too close to the water.

But she had also heard of the faeries who would leave gifts for those who left them offerings. She heard stories of those creatures that would venture into town, becoming friends with the locals, and would treat them as interesting things to be observed.

That was what made Palmetto interesting: it was so close to magic. Dangerous magic, yes, but magic all the same.

The woman had paused when she noticed Kayleigh across the clearing, frozen in place like a deer faced with the decision to run. But Kayleigh had scrambled to her feet, arms outstretched, paintbrush in hand like a peace offering.

“Please,” she said, eyes as wide as the faerie woman’s across from her. “Let me paint you.”

The woman had managed to look even more shocked at the offer, her eyes growing nearly to the size of teacup saucers. She took a step toward Kayleigh, her limbs creaking like the sound of a wooden front porch swing in the wind.

“You wish to paint me? Why?”

Kayleigh answered cautiously. “You are absolutely beautiful, and I would like to capture that forever.”

The woman seemed to shrink back at the term “capture”, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayleigh backtracked, gesturing to the canvas beside her.

“I could give it to you when finished. As a gift, if you’d like.”

The faerie woman’s ears twitched, not unlike a rabbit, and her eyes glowed the color of copper.

“A gift?”

Kayleigh nodded, and the woman closed the distance between them in the span of two breaths.

“A gift, then. I will sit for you.”

And so the afternoon went, with Kayleigh and the faerie woman speaking like old friends. The woman explained that she had once belonged to the First Branch of the faerie folk, but had followed the exiled prince to his new home, here. She told Kayleigh of her newfound love of the deepness of the forest, but also her longing for her old life. In return, Kayleigh told the woman her fears of her first child, who’d began to grow impatient on the blanket beside her, crying softly for attention every now and again. She explained that she was worried that he would never find something that he was meant to do, would never go on to find greatness in his life, whatever that greatness may be. Her own parents had been disappointed when she had left home for love and a future in the arts, and she didn’t want to find herself disappointed in her son, too.

When the painting was finished, the woman marveled at the sight of it. After a moment of admiration she turned, crouching low over Kevin, and brought her thumb to his left cheekbone. Immediately, he began to cry.

“What have you done?” Kayleigh asked, panicked, throwing herself between the woman and Kevin, drawing him to her as if he would be snatched away. On Kevin’s cheek was a red stain, spreading like an inkblot across his skin.

“For the gift of your art, I owe you a boon,” the faerie woman said, towering above Kayleigh as if she’d grown four feet higher than she had been a moment ago. “I can’t change his nature, but I can give him the gift of our music. He will play music so sweet that no one will be able to think of anything else when they hear it. It will be music that contains the magic of faerie. It will weigh on him and it will change him and it will make him an artist, whether he chooses to be one or not. Every child needs a tragedy to become truly interesting. This is my gift to you -- he will be compelled to art, love it or not.”

And then she was gone, leaving Kayleigh to try and decipher whether her son had been gifted or cursed.

The answer, it turned out to be, was both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm resisting the urge to post all of the chapters I have written at once. I'm so excited for this;;;
> 
> come yell about it with me on my Twitter!
> 
> @fairietailed


	3. Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the late spring and all of summer, Palmetto was swarmed by tourists. Every year they came, eating at their diners and buying souvenir t-shirts and postcards and charms and wards against the Folk as if they were novelties or jokes. They would take pictures in front of the glass casket or have picnics on the lake or wander deep into the forest in an attempt to debunk theories that the town was full of magic.
> 
> Every year, some of those tourists disappeared.

By the time Neil got home, it was well past midnight. The light in the kitchen was on, and Kevin was at the dinner table, a glass of scotch in his hand. He was staring off into nothing, and Neil resisted the urge to sigh as he watched Kevin circle the tip of his finger along the rim of his glass.

“She’s fine,” Neil said, not unkindly. He sat across from Kevin at the table, though Kevin didn’t bother to look at him. “You know her casket is unbreakable.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” Kevin replied, draining the glass in one go. “Sometimes I think I can forget about her being out there. But other times it hurts so much that I feel like I’d rather curl up and die.”

“Now you’re being a bit dramatic,” Neil said, but not even he believed his words. Would he really be able to just move on if the roles were reversed? 

Kevin only shrugged, laying his forehead against the table. His voice came out muffled when he asked, “How’s Andrew?”

“The same as usual.” Neil moved to the kitchen counter, hopping onto it and pulling a bag of chips from the basket filled with snacks. “He says you need to come out of hiding eventually. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“There has to be,” Kevin snapped, though his head remained glued to the table. “He’s one to talk. If it were Aaron in that case you know he would go on a rampage until he was freed.”

Neil only hummed, unable to counter that argument. “What are you going to do then?” He asked instead, and Kevin groaned.

“You know that I don’t know,” he said. He sounded on the verge of tears. Neil assumed he must be decently drunk to have reached that point. “Maybe I can go to the forest, and ask to meet with Tetsuji-”

“No.”

The bite of his words was enough to bring Kevin’s forehead off the table, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at Neil. “Why not?”

Neil frowned back. “Because you know that making deals in this forest is the last thing you want to do.”

_ Because I’ve already made a deal for the both of us. _

_ Because I don’t know if a deal you make will counter mine. _

_ Because I don’t want you in the same situation as me. _

“Because you know that Tetsuji is already mad at you. What’s to say he won’t play you the same way that he plays everyone else? Don’t become a tourist, Kevin.”

In the late spring and all of summer, Palmetto was swarmed by tourists. Every year they came, eating at their diners and buying souvenir t-shirts and postcards and charms and wards against the Folk as if they were novelties or jokes. They would take pictures in front of the glass casket or have picnics on the lake or wander deep into the forest in an attempt to debunk theories that the town was full of magic.

Every year, some of those tourists disappeared.

Some got dragged down into Fox Lake by water hags, bodies cracking the dense mat of algae, scattering the duckweed. Some would be run down at twilight by horses with ringing bells tied to their manes and members of the Shining Folk on their backs. Some would be found strung upside down in trees, bled out and chewed upon by red hats. Some would be found sitting on park benches, their faces frozen in a grimace so terrible that it seemed as though they must have died of fright. And some simply disappeared.

Neil supposed that there should have been travel warnings. That the tourists should be a bit more wary, due to the disappearances that would come every summer. There were usually only one or two a year, but still. A body count that seemed to be climbing would normally turn people away from places like Palmetto, wouldn’t they?

A generation ago, the Folk had been more inclined toward simple pranks. A stray wind might grab an idle tourist and sweep her up, depositing her miles away. A few tourists might head back to their hotel after a late night out and realize that six months had passed. Occasionally one would wake up with their hair in knots. Things they thought had been in their pockets would go missing, or new things would be discovered. Laces wouldn’t untie, and shadows would look a bit rugged, as if they;d slipped away for some fun.

But back then, it was very rare for someone to die because of the Folk.

_ Tourists _ , the locals would - and still do - sneer. Everyone believed that the tourists had done something, had said something to set off the Folk to get themselves killed. And if someone from Palmetto very rarely went missing too, well, they must have been acting like one of the tourists. They should have known better. 

The people of Palmetto had come to think of the Folk as inevitable, like a natural hazard, like hailstorms or getting swept out to sea by a riptide. It was a strange kind of double consciousness.

They had to be respectful of the Folk, but not scared.

Tourists were scared.

They had to stay clear of the Folk and carry protections.

Tourists weren’t scared enough.

Neil and Kevin hadn’t been scared enough, either, when they had begun hunting the Folk -- the bad ones, the ones that killed tourists and hurt locals. Kevin with his entrancing music, and Neil with his sword. They hadn’t thought about the Great King Tetsuji, and the wrath he may feel at his subjects’ demise.

Kevin hadn’t been scared enough, either, when the Great King had sent his best knight from his Perfect Court to kill him, and when that had failed, had smashed his hand in warning to never play his music again. He exiled the knight from his Court entirely, locking her away in a coffin of unbreakable glass.

Neil hadn’t been scared enough, himself, when he had gone deep into the forest one night and made a deal for Kevin’s life. One that Kevin could never, ever find out about. Because Neil should have known better. Because Neil wasn’t a tourist, and Neil had still gotten played like one.

The crease between Kevin’s brows smoothed a bit, and suddenly he was back to moping.

“You’re right,” he said, and Neil nearly let out a sigh of relief. “You’re right.”

He hopped off the counter, passing by Kevin and patting him on the shoulder. “Get some sleep, dude. You’re a mess.”

Kevin only made a small grunt of affirmation before Neil left the room.

He made his way up the stairs, getting to his room and changing into his pajamas. Once he pulled back the sheets on his bed to go to sleep, though, something fell out of his pajama pocket, and he paused.

It was a walnut, cut in half and kept together with a blade of glass.

He frowned, picking it up and gently breaking the grass to allow the walnut to fall open. A small piece of paper fell out, long and thin, rolled up like a scroll. He opened it, nearly having to squint to be able to read the words etched onto the paper.

_ Half of your life to pay your debts, it is much too late to have regrets. _

All of the breath was sucked from his lungs.

Who could know? Who had been in his room, and had been in it long enough to leave this in his pajama pocket, no less?

He checked his windows, making sure they were locked. He locked his bedroom door, leaving the lights on when he slept, though he didn't sleep much that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess I'm just posting these whenever?????


	4. Four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tie your ribbon to the tree,” the creature hissed, and her smile sharpened. “Tell me your wish. I bargain on behalf of the Great King, and he will give you all that you desire.”

Six years ago, when Neil was nearly eleven years old, he had made a bargain with the Folk.

He had crept down to the hawthorn tree on a full-moon night, just before dawn. The sky was still mostly dark, still dusted with stars. Strips of cloth were tied to the branches above him, fluttering in the wind, the ghosts of past wishes whispering in his ear. He had left his sword at home out of respect, and hoped that even though he and Kevin had hunted some of the Folk - only the bad ones, he thought, not the good - they would still bargain with him fairly. He was very young.

Keeping what he wanted in mind, Neil crossed the ring of white stones and waited, sitting on the grass under the hawthorn tree. He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later a creature came sliding from the forest. She was made nearly entirely of mist, and when she smiled, her teeth were like knives. She grinned down at Neil, her eyes wide and cold.

“Well,” she said, intrigue brightening her gaze. “Junior has come back to play.”

Neil tried not to show that he was unsure of what she meant. She continued.

“Tie your ribbon to the tree,” the creature hissed, and her smile sharpened. “Tell me your wish. I bargain on behalf of the Great King, and he will give you all that you desire.”

Neil had brought a strip of cloth from his favorite t-shirt, and it was warm as he held it in his grip. “I want the Great King to spare my brother’s life, and his knight’s as well.”

The creature’s eyebrows rose, and Neil couldn’t tell if she was surprised, or impressed, or offended. He thought it might be a combination of the three.

“So this wish is not even for you?” She asked, her voice brimming with laughter. “Not for escape, or for answers? It is for someone else’s life instead?”

“It is for me. I’m a bit selfish,” Neil said before he could stop himself. “I’ll give up hunting the Folk entirely.”

The creature scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you are bold. I like that. But be honest with yourself, is that really a sufficient price for your wish?”

Neil frowned. “I believe it is.”

“So you will give up something that did not matter to his Majesty, for not one life, but  _ two _ ?” The creature hissed toward him, nearly disappearing with the early morning mist. “The Great King wishes for retribution. Do you feel your wish is more important than a King’s?”

“If it was unimportant, then why would he bother trying to kill Kevin?” Neil asked. “Why not kill me? I am the one with blood on my hands.”

The creature hummed.

“Because he has disrespected the King, by playing our songs to kill our people. Because he has disrespected him by taking one of his finest knights, turning her against his Majesty. Because you pose no real threat without his music. Because he knows that we could end your life whenever he so chooses.” She held up four fingers, holding them up for Neil to see. “Take your pick.”

Neil couldn’t breathe, frozen as the creature slunk forward, so close that he could feel her breath on his face. She grinned again, and Neil’s stomach dropped.

“You want to save this boy’s life, Junior?” She said it slowly, as if Neil were unable to understand her, the knife-sharp points of her teeth glistening in the moonlight. “Then give me yours instead.”

Neil inhaled sharply, finding his voice somewhere deep inside of him.

“No.”

The creature laughed, low and hollow.

“And who are you to refuse this most generous offer?”

Neil bit back an insult, keeping his voice steady instead. “I am Neil Wymack,” he said. He knew how much the fae valued names. “And I believe you can offer better than that.”

“But you’re so very young,” the creature said. She seemed to sneer, then, her upper lip curling. “You are practically  _ stuffed _ with years to come. Perhaps those years could be cut short, though, so you were left with no more anyway? It would be a shame if you died tomorrow.” She seemed to move even closer, so close that her eyes were inches from Neil’s. “That would make you a worthless, worthless boy,  _ Neil Wymack _ .”

The way she said his name rolled over him like a bucket of ice. His name felt wrong, twisted coming from her mouth. He never wanted her to say it again.

“You would be of no use to us then,” she continued. She snapped backward in an instant, suddenly a good five feet away. “And you are of no real use to us now, right? At least, not like this.” She flitted her hands in the direction of Neil as if he were a painting that just wasn’t the right color.

“Half of my life, then,” Neil forced out, because losing half of your life is such a long way away when you’re 10 years old. It would take him 100 years to reach it. “Half of my life for Kevin and Thea’s.”

The creature’s eyes flashed, and she licked her lips as if she could taste his fear.

“The King will still want payment, of course,” she said, slowly floating toward him. “Something small. Perhaps a hand, or a toe.” She seemed to grow amused. “Nothing that you couldn’t do without.”

If that was the price for Kevin’s life, then Neil would pay it.

“Half of my life, plus the King’s payment.”

The creature laughed, nearly maniacal.

“Our bargain is made,” she said, and her smile reached her ears. “Tie your cloth to the tree and go home with our blessing.”

Neil tied his fabric in a tight knot, finishing in enough time to catch her slipping back into the forest.

“Wait,” he called. “What is your name?”

“My name?” The creature asked, holding her finger to her chin as if thinking. “I suppose I’ve always been fond of the title ‘Lola’.”

-+-

Thea was brought to the Great King’s court the next day. The King chose to let her live, though it would be in an eternal sleep, forever encased in a glass coffin in a clearing in the woods so that everyone, be it fae or ignorant humans, would know what happens to those who cross the King.

Two days later, Kevin was captured by faeries, only to be dumped on his front porch step the next night, cradling a broken hand against his chest.

It was at that moment that Neil had realized that he had not been specific enough in his terms.

Thea was still technically alive, and it had not been  _ his _ hand that had been broken.

He had been played, the way a tourist was played, and there was nothing he could do but wait for his time to run out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, no more for the night. This was just my favorite chapter so far, I think, so I had to get it out there.


	5. Five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good news, Kevin,” Andrew said, though his face said his news was anything but. “Your girlfriend is missing.”

Neil woke in the morning to his alarm blaring on the nightstand beside him. He ached all over, and there was a sharp stinging in his fingertips as he reached for the snooze button. When his eyes finally focused, he noticed small shards of glass covering his fingertips. His palms were red, scratched up as if he had fought something. His forearms had the same cuts, stopping almost at the elbow.

He sat up quickly, his heart racing, shallow breaths causing his head to spin. He threw his covers off of him, and nearly yelled out in surprise as he saw his feet caked in mud and twigs and leaves. His pajama bottoms were torn and frayed, covered in mud like his feet. 

What had he done?

He tried to think back, tried to remember exactly what he had done last night, but the harder he thought, the further it seemed to slip away.

What had he done?

Why couldn’t he remember it?

His muscles hurt, and so did his head. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t add up exactly why there were shards of glass in his hands and mud on his clothes. He couldn’t calm down, couldn’t think a single rational thought even though he knew this was coming, even though he knew that this was probably many years past due, and he was living on borrowed time anyway. He should be grateful that he knew, now, that his time was up.

Neil practically leapt from his bed, moving across the room and pausing at his door. When he heard no movement on the other side he crept out slowly, making his way to the bathroom as silently as possible. He worried about waking Wymack or Abby, and the last person he needed to see was Kevin.

He made it with no issues, locking the door and turning on the shower immediately. He waited until he was under the water before picking the glass out of his fingers, letting them fall down the drain one by one.

He thought back to the note in his pajamas.  _ Half of your life to pay your debts _ .

He understood the warning, though he wasn’t sure why they were being considerate enough to give him one. And if this was when he was supposed to be taken, then why was he here? Covered in dirt and glass?

Had he run?

As he made his way back to his room after finishing his shower, he decided that this probably wasn’t the case.

He would not have come here if he had run. He would have left town, probably the country, changed his name and his appearance and kept his head down. Not come back to the one place that they could find him the easiest.

He got changed, toweling off his hair as he looked around his room for a pair of shoes. He had just turned away from the closet when his eyes fell on a mess on the far side of the room, beneath the window. Something was written on the wall, seemingly etched out in now dried mud.

There were 2 names, scribbled out horror-style on his pastel orange wallpaper.

**NATHANIEL.**

**AINSEL.**

He had no idea who either of those people were, or whether they were named as people meant to help him or people meant to harm him. Either way, the thought of someone making their way into his bedroom over the course of two days was enough to make him feel sick.

For a moment he contemplated going downstairs and telling Kevin everything -- the bargain, the note, waking up with mud on his feet and glass on his hands, his fear that he was going to be taken without ever getting to say goodbye.

But if he told him everything, he might want Neil to leave, and as he’d told Lola so long ago, he was selfish. He couldn’t take it if Kevin sent him away.

By the time he made it downstairs, Kevin was by the door waiting impatiently.

“Let’s go,” he said as Neil attempted to pour himself coffee. “You should have been down here ready to go 5 minutes ago.”

“5 minutes won’t kill us, Kevin,” Neil said, though at this point, who knew if it would.

“No, but it will make us late for class,” Kevin replied, which seemed to be worse in his eyes.

Neil rolled his eyes, grateful for the distraction from his morning.

-+-

As soon as Neil entered the school hallway, he knew that something was wrong.

The school’s front entrance was crowded with students, all of them attempting to talk over one another as they all attempted to be heard. Neil caught sight of Aaron and Andrew on the outskirts of the crowd, both looking bored and uninterested in what the mob had to say.

He and Kevin caught up with them, and Neil nodded in the direction of the group.

“What’s going on?” He asked, and Andrew turned to look at him. He caught sight of Kevin, leaning back a bit to look at him around Neil’s back.

“Good news, Kevin,” he said, though his face said his news was anything but. “Your girlfriend is missing.”

Neil whirled around in time to watch Kevin stumble back, all of the color draining from his face.

“What?”

Neil thought about the glass stuck in his hand this morning. He thought about the mud that caked the bottom of his feet. He tried not to think about how all of these things may be connected.

“Apparently she was gone this morning,” Aaron said. “Matt went with a few other kids to clean up some of the beer bottles from the party last night and Thea was gone.”

Kevin gripped Neil’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the muscle so hard that Neil was sure he would leave bruises.

“She’s awake,” Kevin said softly.

“She has to be,” Neil said back, because it was true.

She had to be.


	6. Six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neils’ mind was going a mile a minute, but one thought was playing on repeat over and over and over.
> 
> "I am a knight. I am a knight. I am a knight."

Once upon a time, a little boy found a corpse in the woods.

His father had raised the boy and his brother to be strong, smart, and capable; to take no shit but to not stray too far into enemy territory. He wasn’t the boy’s real father, no; he had adopted him, found him on a park bench on the last day of March, and brought him home to make sure he was safe. The man had recently lost his wife, and was raising his son by himself. That didn’t stop him, though, from raising the boy as if he were his own flesh and blood, making sure that the boy grew up as happy and as healthy as possible.

He was the bravest man that the boy knew, and the boy decided that he wanted to be just like him.

Maybe that’s what led him to explore the forest with his brother, uncaring of the warnings bestowed upon him by all of the parents in town. He was untouchable. With his brother at his side, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

He was smart enough, at least, to wear the protective charms, knew to keep a bit of grave dirt in his pockets, and to be cautious and polite to strangers that he thought may not be human.

But knowing the Folk were dangerous was one thing, and finding the remains of Adam Hicks was another.

-+-

Neil had been dressed as a knight that day. He had an orange dish rag tied around his neck for a cloak and a scarf for a sash at his waist. Kevin had been sword fighting with him all day. He had a nice plastic sword that their dad had picked up at a local yard sale, along with a book on King Arthur’s knights. Their dad had let them know that he was only able to find one, so they had to share, but Kevin did not seem to feel like sharing that day.

Finally frustrated, Neil had headed to the shed and found their dad’s old exy racquet, bringing it out with excitement and knocking the plastic sword from Kevin’s grip, breaking it in half and causing Kevin to stomp his way back to the house in fury.

Neil was elated, heading into the woods and spending half of the morning whacking at trees and ferns and pretending they were horrible monsters, some of the ones he’d heard about in storybooks and town legends.

After a while he’d gotten bored, and decided to go hunting for blackberries and walnuts down in the direction of Fox Lake.

Once he’d gotten to the edge of the water, it had taken him only a minute to spot Adam lying in the mud, half-buried with bluish lips. His eyes were missing, hollow pits filled with maggots in their place. The bottom half of his body was submerged in the water and had been eaten away. Neil was frozen to the spot, unmoving as he stared.

He was telling himself not to throw up when a scaled hand latched on to his ankle.

He screamed, fumbling for his exy racquet, stomping on the hand that only tightened its grip in response. A hag rose out of the water, her face sunken like a skull with cloudy eyes and long green hair that spread out, floating on the surface of the lake.

Neil managed to get in a swing as the hag pulled him downward, causing him to slam hard onto the ground. As he scrambled to get a grip on the racquet for a second swing, he noticed blood seeping from an open wound on her head. He had connected, and that meant he could do it again.

“Little boy,” the hag said, her voice the sound of crying whales. “Barely a mouthful. Stringy from running. Relax, little mouthful.”

Closing his eyes, Neil swung. The hag hissed out of annoyance, reaching out to stop the racquet from connecting a second time. Her fingers tangled in the netting, some of them cracking and facing the wrong direction, but she held strong, wrenching it from Neil’s grip and tossing it out into the middle of the lake behind her.

Neil kicked and fought, attempting to maneuver his way out of the hag’s grip. The sound of distant music reached his ears, and he had to strain hard to hear it right.

Kevin’s reed pipes.

He had worn them around his neck for the past few weeks, calling himself a bard and playing for Neil as they made their way through the forest. He hadn’t removed them since.

Neil tried to crawl backward, kicking against the hag’s grip as hard as he could. Despite his best struggles, he felt when his feet began to break the surface of the lake, the cold from the water spreading up his skin as the hag pulled.

“Kevin,” Neil called out, begging to anyone that he would be heard. “Kevin!”

The music continued, closer now, but still too far to help Neil. He kicked out again, this time out of frustration. Why wasn’t Kevin coming faster? Why was he going to let Neil die? He wondered offhandedly how long it would take him to drown. He wondered if it would hurt.

Suddenly, though, the hag’s grip loosened. Neil scrambled up the muddy bank and onto the grass, not bothering to look back in question as to why she had let go. He didn’t turn around until he got onto the hard forest floor, wrapping his arms around a large elm tree and searching for Kevin. He noticed him standing near the water, looking pale and scared, playing his pipes as though he was playing for his life.

Neil realized suddenly that he wasn’t playing for his own life. He was playing for  _ Neil’s _ .

The water hag gaped at him, jaw slack, eyes glazed over. Her mouth moved slightly, as if she were singing along to a song that Neil didn’t know. Neil knew that the Folk loved music, but she had no idea that this was what it could do to them.

Neil took in the sight of the bank, eyes grazing over Adam’s body when he noticed something shining in the mud. Was it a knife? Had Adam tried to fight back, too?

Slowly, Neil climbed back down the bank, taking tentative steps in the hag’s direction.

Kevin caught sight of him, panic in his eyes, and he risked shaking his head in warning. Neil waved him off.

He continued down the bank until he reached the hilt of the knife, grabbing hold and pulling it from the mud. It was metal, blackened as though it had been in a fire, and gold underneath. It was much longer than he expected, and he inspected it for a moment before realizing that it was a sword. A real sword, the kind a knight would carry.

Neils’ mind was going a mile a minute, but one thought was playing on repeat over and over and over.

_ I am a knight. I am a knight. I am a knight. _

He waded into the lake water without fully thinking, and swung the sword down like an exy racquet, bashing the edge against the monster’s head. Her skull split like a melon.

The creature slumped over in the water, dead.

Kevin stood on the edge of the bank, his face pale and his hands shaking.

“I didn't think you would actually kill it,” he said. “I didn't know what to do.”

Neil sniffed a bit as he hefted the sword up, scaling the bank to stand beside his brother.

“We could do something with this.”

Kevin somehow grew paler. “Do what?! Neil, is that a  _ sword?” _

Neil nodded, triumphant and terrified. “It is. I found it by the lake. And I think we could do something worthwhile.”

“Like what?” Kevin asked, his voice shaking.

Children can have a cruel, absolute sense of justice. Children can kill monsters and feel quite proud of themselves.

“We can save people,” Neil said. “We can kill the bad Folk. With your music and my sword, we can kill them.”

He turned to Kevin, who was staring at him with a terrified expression. But behind that terror was excitement, and the buzzing of adventure that neither of them could shy away from.

It took Neil hslf of the walk home to realize that he was smiling, dark and sharp and sinister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of the dead boy was pulled from the book itself. I couldn't think of a good name;;;


	7. Seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We know you’re awake. Eden’s. 14, 9, back.
> 
> -K, A, N.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't been able to upload; here is a small chapter in payment.

Kevin was out the school doors and moving before Neil had the chance to stop him. He was at a near jog in his haste to get to the car; if Neil wasn’t a fast runner, Kevin’s long legs would have been too fast for him to catch up.

“Kevin!”

He stopped so abruptly that Neil almost crashed into him. When he turned around, his expression was panicked, and full of a hope that Neil hadn’t seen since Thea was encased in the coffin to begin with.

“We need to find her.”

His voice was cracked and pleading. Neil nodded once.

“I know. But we can’t just go running off. We need a plan.”

“And what would that be?”

Andrew’s voice came from behind them. Neil jumped a bit, not expecting him to have followed so quickly.

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly. “But we need to think of one before we go running off to find her. She could be anywhere. But so could Tetsuji’s men.”

"He’s sure to have heard about her disappearance already,” Andrew agreed, and Kevin let out a choked sort of noise. Andrew ignored him. “Where do you think she would have gone?”

“She’s too smart to go to our house,” Neil said. “She would know Tetsuji would look there first.”

“If Riko hasn’t already,” Andrew said.

Neil flinched a bit, hoping David and Abby weren’t home on the chance that Riko did happen to stop by.

“Maybe we can check the forest,” he said. He thought back to waking up that morning with mud and tree branches stuck to his clothing. He thought about the shards of glass in his hands. He thought about the fact that the woods seemed like a big enough place for her to hide.

“That’s a big area to search,” Andrew said, looking at Neil with a curious expression. “Unless you know where to look.”

Neil tried not to fall apart under Andrew’s gaze. He looked at him as though he knew something. As if he knew exactly what Neil had done, and was waiting for him to confess.

Kevin let out a small sigh beside him.

“I think I might know where she is,” he said. He turned to Andrew. “Will you come with us?”

Andrew seemed to consider for a moment before he finally shrugged.

“I have a science test next period,” he said, “but this sounds more interesting.”

-+-

Kevin took them down to Fox Lake, where they parked a few hundred yards away from where Neil had found his sword. It had begun to rain, and Neil couldn’t help but envy Andrew’s Doc Martens as his own shoes began getting coated in mud. David was going to kill him.

It took them nearly half an hour of hiking before a stone building came into view, nearly every inch of the outside covered in dark green ivy. Its roof was half caved in, and half of the door was missing. Kevin nearly ran to the door, but Neil hung back.

His hand went to his side automatically.

Andrew watched him, an eyebrow raised.

“What are you doing?”

Neil paused a second before shrugging. He had been reaching for something -- his belt? his pocket? - but there was nothing there.

“Reaching for your sword, Knight?” Andrew asked, and Neil swallowed.

Kevin interrupted his train of thought as he stuck his head out from the opening in the doorway.

“I was right,” he called out. “She was here.”

Neil and Andrew followed him into the house. They’d been in this building only once before, the three of them using it as a base when Kevin and Neil had taken up Faerie hunting. Andrew had never participated, but he did come to hang out at the base to eat all of their snacks.

There was a table tucked into the corner of the room, weather-worn and barely standing. On top of it were nuts and berries, plus some herbs and three persimmons, ripped open and scraped clean. Next to the food was a knife, one with a handle of bone and a twisting blade of some golden metal. It reminded Neil of his sword.

“Shit,” Neil said, reaching for the knife. He didn’t touch it, though, his hand hovering over the handle hesitantly. “She was here.”

“The question is, then, where did she go?” Andrew was lighting a cigarette, watching Neil without interest, as if they were attempting to find a friend they got separated from at the mall.

“Well,” Neil said, pulling his hand back to his side. “She has to come back for her knife, right?”

Kevin nodded, and Andrew leaned against the wall.

“So we’re just going to sit here and hope she shows up?” He asked, and Kevin frowned.

“What else are we supposed to do?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, motioning for Neil to turn around. He did, and felt Andrew unzip his backpack and tug out his binder. He tore out a piece of paper, pulling a pen from his pocket and popping off the cap. He scribbled out something on the paper, snapping Neil’s binder closed and dropping it back into his backpack, slipping the pen behind his ear, and pulling the knife from out of the table before stabbing it back into the wood, this time with the paper beneath it.

Neil leaned over, reading the note.

_ We know you’re awake. Eden’s. 14, 9, back. _

_ -K, A, N. _

Andrew was already leaving by the time Neil realized what the note was saying. He grabbed Kevin by the wrist, following Andrew back toward the car.

“Eden’s tomorrow?”

Andrew nodded. “She knows.”

“How-”

Andrew cut him off. “When she was still awake we made a kind of code. It’s easy but it does the job most of the time.”

Kevin frowned. “Why were you two talking in code?”

“I don’t know, Kevin,” Andrew responded. “Why would I tell you?”

“That’s my girlfriend-”

“And my secrets.” Andrew said. Kevin’s frown deepened, but he didn’t push the matter further.

“Why not meet her tonight?” He asked instead. Andrew stopped walking. Neil and Kevin stopped, too, and Andrew held up his finger in a motion to be silent.

Music floated toward them from the distance, quiet but sure. It strained against the wind, but they could still hear it.

“It’s a full moon tonight.”

Andrew’s voice was distant, nearly as far away as the music that danced its way across the forest. Something about him looked different, Neil thought, as though he were tired enough to sleep for a week, but had more energy than he knew what to do with.

Did his ears look sharper? His eyes more golden? His nails more like claws?

Or was Neil just imagining it?

They made the rest of the hike to the car in silence, though the energy buzzing off of Andrew was nearly loud enough to hear.


	8. Eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been good, for a while. They had been good, heroes, a knight and his bard, traveling the woods and getting rid of monsters.
> 
> And then Thea had shown up.

Kevin Day was gifted.

He had been gifted since the elf woman had touched his cheek and a port-wine stain had bloomed on the bone and he’d come home able to hear their music and make it, too. Gifted since he could play music before he could speak. Gifted since he’d composed songs on a child-sized ukulele that no adult could replicate. Gifted since he played a song on a small xylophone that made Abby weep the day his father had introduced her to himself and Neil.

But Kevin had always thought of himself as cursed, too.

When his mother had died, he had been very young. She had gotten sick, diagnosed with a cancer that they hadn’t caught until it was too late. He had been too young to remember, and his father didn’t like to talk about it very much.

The day she died, he had done the only thing he could comprehend doing: he played his music.

He had been alone in a child-care room with a nurse that was watching him as his dad handled arrangements for his mother’s body. He was three years old, barely able to form full sentences, but he began to sing anyway, a song without words but so full of mourning that he felt as though he were speaking to the Gods themselves, begging them to change things.

It wasn’t until he was finished that he had realized that the nurse had died halfway through his song, tears still drying on her face.

They had ruled it a heart attack, but once he was old enough to understand, Kevin knew it had been him.

He had tried, at various points throughout his life, to stop playing music. He had tried to stop humming unknowingly to himself as he did his chores around the house. He tried to stop drumming out beats of songs from the radio as they drove in the car. He requested, for a while, that they not play the radio at all.

He had tried so hard to quit, but it was nearly impossible for him to do it.

And then Neil had come to him with the idea to hunt the fae.

He had been hesitant to do it. But he had. Why had he, though? If you asked him now, he probably wouldn’t be able to tell you. It could have been some attempt to control his gift. To give him a reason to use it that didn’t involve hurting good people. In fact, he would be  _ saving _ them, hurting only the bad fae that roamed the woods and scared and hurt people who didn’t deserve it.

It had been good, for a while. They had been good, heroes, a knight and his bard, traveling the woods and getting rid of monsters.

And then Thea had shown up.

Tetsuji had sent her in warning, to give Neil and Kevin the chance to stop their games.

“He would hate for a gift such as yours to be wasted in death,” Thea had said, cornering Neil and Kevin in a meadow that they had chased a pair of red hats into. “Give up now, he says, and he will let you live. He may ask you for a favor now and then, but you will always be paid handsomely for your services. Just go home, human. Play your music for your people, and make them happy. Do not make me kill you where you stand.”

Kevin had nearly taken the offer, had nearly turned and ran as soon as the words had left Thea’s mouth. But then Neil had spoken up, angry and offended at the intrusion of their hunt.

“Is this the same king that allows his subjects to murder innocent people?”

Thea had looked at him, curious, and Kevin had contemplated throwing Neil into Fox Lake to get him to stop talking. But he didn’t, and Neil continued.

“Is this the same king who sends others to do his dirty work? Who has no regard for human life? Why should we care about the lives of his people if he does not care about ours?"

He stood with his sword drawn, as if ready to charge Thea like one of their other targets. Kevin, though, couldn’t find it in him to reach for his reed pipes. Thea watched the both of them for a long time, and then drew her own sword.

“This is the king who has given me my life,” she said, taking a step toward Neil. “This is the king who so graciously allows the humans to live at all, though they continuously enter his forest and disrespect the Folk. This is the king who has ruled the forest for centuries, and who will continue to rule long after you are gone.”

Neil didn’t move, watching Thea closely.

She took another two steps forward so that the tip of her sword’s blade brushed against Neil’s. The sound of metal sliding against metal broke the silence that had surrounded them.

“Are you ready to fight for your life? For your brother’s? For every human in Palmetto who dares to disrespect the Great King?” She pushed forward, causing Neil’s wrist to twist in the wrong direction. He lost his grip, and his sword tumbled to the ground. Thea didn’t bother to look down at it, but instead pushed forward once more, so that her sword blade rested on Neil’s shoulder, inches from his throat.

“Do you know how easily Faerie blades cut through human skin, Neil Wymack?” She asked it conversationally, as if they had run into each other at the supermarket and were discussing the day’s weather. “It takes very little effort. It’s like cutting through water.”

Neil didn’t move, and Kevin could see the anger in his face as he stared down Thea. He saw Neil’s fists at his side and knew he was ready to attack, sword or no sword.

He made his decision, lunging for Neil’s sword and grabbing it, pointing it at Thea’s chest before she could decide whether to stay trained on Neil or move to Kevin.

“Put your weapon away. We will leave.”

“Kevin-” Neil began, but Kevin cut him off.

“Shut  _ up _ , Neil,” he said. “We don’t have a choice.”

“You can’t make the choice for me.”

“I’m the oldest. So yes, I can.”

He heard Neil curse in frustration, and he knew he had won.

Thea watched him closely, her eyes shining peridot in the light that filtered through the trees. Finally, she lowered her sword. Kevin lowered his.

“Promise me,” she said. “Promise me that you will not enter this forest with intent to kill another fae for as long as you live.”

Kevin nodded, his heart in his throat.

“I promise.”

-+-

He should have left it alone.

He should have left it all alone, moving on with his life, ignoring the urge to play his music and ignoring the urge to ask Thea to come back.

But there was something in the way that she carried herself. She was so sure, so strong. And she was so beautiful -- her skin was like mahogany wood, with swirls and dents and chips, ones she wore with pride, as if they were trophies from past victories. Her hair was long, black dreads that reached her lower back. She was a force of nature, and Kevin was helpless in her presence.

It took him two weeks to work up the courage to go looking for her.

“Don’t do it,” Andrew warned one day, as they sat in Eden’s Diner. He held a cup of coffee halfway to his mouth, which was now formed into a thin line of disapproval.

“Do what?” Kevin feigned innocence, and Andrew scoffed.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” he said. “Don’t do it.”

He knew Andrew was right. Logically, he shouldn’t attempt anything like what he was planning. But something about her drew Kevin crazy, and he knew that if he did not try, he would forever wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t.

He should have left it alone.

Instead, he headed back into the forest one night, stumbling through the branches and leaves that covered the path he followed until he reached an abandoned stone building, entirely covered in vines. He left a handful of persimmons and a note that was written so quickly that it probably had a million spelling errors, but he didn’t care as he quickly left, heading back to his house with his heart in his throat.

Two days later, Thea came calling.

-+-

“You were given a great gift,” Thea said to him one afternoon as they laid out by Fox Lake. Thea seemed to have no fear when it came to the water hags and other creatures that lurked in the water. Kevin preferred to keep his distance.

“If you can call it that,” he said. “I suppose so.”

Thea hummed, letting her head fall back as if she were sunbathing. Her hair pooled on the floor behind her, and Kevin noticed bits of leaves woven into her dreads.

“Whether or not you feel it is a gift, that is what it is,” she said. “Not all gifts are good, but that does not mean that they were not gifted to you all the same.”

“I wish I was never given this gift,” Kevin said. It was the first time he’d voiced the thought out loud. He felt something inside of him lift.

“And sometimes I wish I were not given the gift of knighthood,” Thea said back. “Yet we cannot always change the path of who we are destined to be.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Kevin asked. Thea looked at him questioningly. “I’m not a fae, and I can’t use it to kill them. I can’t play for humans, because it always ends up in one extreme or another. Either insane happiness or crazy sadness.”

His voice grew soft, until it was almost a whisper.

“I’ve killed someone. Just by singing. That shouldn’t be possible.”

Thea hummed again.

“I have killed many someones, Kevin Day.” She reached her hand out, touching the wine colored stain on his cheek. “Does that make me a bad person?”

His skin felt as though it had caught fire. “It’s not like you had a choice, right?” He asked. “The King had you kill them.”

“But what if I had the choice,” Thea asked, “and I chose it anyway? What if I did not hate the action, but enjoyed it instead?”

Kevin could feel his heart in his throat.

“Then that would be different,” he said. “But I don’t believe that was the case.”

“How can you be so sure?” She asked him. Some semblance of a smile crossed her face. “You do not know me, Kevin Day.”

Every time she said his name, he was a little more lost to her.

“I know you enough,” he said. “And I would like to know more.”

Thea smiled, and Kevin lost the ability to breathe.

-+-

Kevin Day had never considered himself gifted.

And as the Dark Prince Riko stood across from him, sword drawn, a wicked smile curved on his lips, and as Thea breathed heavily beside him, covered in wounds, blood dripping down her arms like sap, Kevin knew that although he may have been given the illusion of a gift, it was nothing more than a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take some Kevin and Thea moments [eye emoji]
> 
> Come yell at me about AFTG on twitter!
> 
> @fairietailed


	9. Nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to go to the full-moon revel.”
> 
> One of Andrew’s eyebrows raised. “Do you?”
> 
> “Yes,” Neil said. “And I want you to take me.”

The night that Thea went missing, David made spaghetti.

Their dad never cooked, or at least never attempted to. He was never very good at it, and they always let Abby take over and fix whatever mistakes he had made, clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes as she went.

As soon as they got inside the house, Neil knew that they were trapped.

“Sit down,” David said, and they did. Andrew, though, hovered by the entrance to the kitchen, folding his arms across his chest. Their dad looked up at him. “You too, unless you’re going to leave.”

“And miss one of your world famous pep-talks?” Andrew asked, moving to sit beside Neil. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Coach.”

David rolled his eyes, sitting across from the three of them at the table.

“Where’s Abby?” Kevin asked, and David shrugged.

“Working late tonight. The hospital had a sudden influx of people. Might have something to do with the full moon.”

“I’ve heard there are a lot of red hats and hobgoblins out tonight,” Neil said, and Andrew snorted.

“Tetsuji lets the reigns loosen at the full moon. He could care less.”

“Which is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” David’s voice grew serious, and Neil and Kevin sat a bit straighter.

“I don’t want you going out tonight.”

Kevin opened his mouth to protest, probably to say that he was planning on doing no such thing, but their father held up a hand to stop him.

“I know you,” he said. “ _ Both _ of you. I know that Thea is gone, and I know that you’re going to go looking for her. And I know that I can’t stop you. But I can damn well set some ground rules.”

Kevin frowned, but leaned back in his chair in a motion for him to continue.

“One: no going out on the full moon.” He looked between Neil and Kevin. “This one is non-negotiable.” He snuck a look at Andrew. “And I know for a fact that Betsy wouldn’t want you out tonight either, so don’t think about it.

“Two: as soon as things get shady, you need to bail.” He looked pointedly at Neil. “You need to bail  _ before  _ things get out of hand, Neil. Don’t make things worse for you. You remember what happened last time.”

Neil winced. David continued.

“Three: if she decides to head back, then you can’t stop her. Do not  _ try _ and stop her. Do  _ not _ interact with the prince or the king, no matter what. Understand?”

“So you basically want us to sit back and hope that Thea comes to us?” Andrew asked. David shrugged.

“Basically.”

Neil noticed Kevin’s tight jaw, and his unhappiness at being told not to interfere. He decided to speak before he could.

“Sounds good,” he said. “Thanks, Dad.”

David nodded, picking up his plate and heading to the living room. “If I hear so much as anything that tells me you decided not to listen to me, I’ll have you signed up for the next 7 marathons that Palmetto hosts.”

Neil and Kevin nodded, knowing this was a lie, and picked up their own plates to head to their rooms. When Andrew got up to leave, Neil stepped in front of him to stop him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low. “I’m going out tonight.”

Andrew blinked, unphased. “Of course you are. Where will you be going?”

“I want to go to the full-moon revel.”

One of Andrew’s eyebrows raised. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Neil said. “And I want you to take me.”

Andrew looked at Neil for a long time, as if he were looking for something in his expression that he couldn’t quite place.

“And if I don’t?” he asked. Neil shrugged.

“One way or another I’m going to go,” he said. “I just wanted to ask for your help first.”

Andrew tilted his head at an angle that reminded Neil just how different he and his brother looked. He didn’t look quite like Aaron -- the bone structure was wrong, his cheekbones a bit higher, his face a bit longer, the tips of his ears pointed.

“Did you know that there are different names for different moons?” Andrew asked suddenly. Neil was brought back to the present. “This month it’s going to be the Hunter’s Moon. March has the Worm Moon and the Crow Moon. May is the Milk Moon. July is the Mead Moon. February has the Hunger Moon and late October is the Blood Moon.”

He stepped closer, leaning in so that his face was so close to Neil’s that he could feel his breath on his lips.

“Aren’t those lovely names, Neil? Aren’t they something? Aren’t they warning enough? Or are you going to ignore them?”

Neil didn’t flinch back. Instead, he met Andrew’s eyes, unafraid.

“How many times have you been there?” He asked. The faintest signs of a frown appeared between Andrew’s eyebrows, only to be gone again in an instant.

“Enough,” he said, and Neil took that as his answer.

-+-

Climbing the stairs to his room after Andrew had left, Neil had already decided to try and stay awake for as long as possible tonight before heading out for the revel, in hopes that if whatever had entered his room last night returned, he would be ready.

Of course there was the possibility that, having already used him for whatever they needed, he wouldn’t be summoned or visited by whoever it was for quite a while. But it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Once in his room he knelt in front of his bed, reaching under the frame and sliding out an old wooden trunk from where it was hidden. The wood was cracked and warped, having been in the family since before he was even born. When they were little, Neil used to hide inside, pretending to be Dracula sleeping in a coffin. He used to enjoy scaring Kevin. Kevin, of course, did not enjoy it very much.

Now it was the place where his sword was kept, along with a lot of childhood mementos. He expected to find them all there when he opened the trunk, not wanting to go to the revel without some kind of weapon just in case.

Instead, he found none of those things.

The trunk was entirely empty except for a book and a folded-up tunic and pair of pants made from a light silver-grey material that he’d never seen before. Beside them was another note in the same familiar handwriting that he’d found in the walnut.

The note only had a number.

241.

He took out the book, reading the cover.

_ Folklore of England _ , it said. He flipped to page 241.

It was the story of a farmer who bought a stretch of land that came with a big, troublesome boggart who’d claimed the land for himself. After some argument, they decided to split the land. The boggart demanded everything that grew above the ground, and told the farmer that he could have anything that grew below. But the farmer planted potatoes and carrots, and at the harvest, the boggart was left with the useless tops. He was furious, raging and shouting and stomping his feet. But he had made the bargain, and like all faeries, he had to uphold his end of the deal. The next year, the boggart demanded whatever grew below the ground. But this time the farmer planted corn, so the boggart was left with only he roots. Again the boggart raged, more terrible and angry than before, but again he was bound to his word. Finally, in the third year, the boggart demanded that the farmer should plant wheat, but they would each plow the field, keeping what they harvested. The farmer knew that the boggart was much stronger, so he planted iron rods on the boggart’s side of the field, so the boggart’s plow became blunted again and again, while the farmer plowed away without issues. After that, the boggart gave in, saying that the farmer could just have the field to himself.

Neil read the story carefully, not understanding why he was directed to the page. The words  _ carrots _ and  _ iron rods _ had been circled, though, with muddy fingers, like the words that had been written on his wall.

Confused and frustrated, he decided to prepare for the revel. He changed into a pair of dark jeans and an orange shirt, making sure that his hair was decent. His hair stuck out at odd angles sometimes, black and unruly, with his brown eyes plain and dull and exactly how he liked it. He was always comfortable with his looks, although they were very different from his family’s.

Kevin was dark skinned, tall and handsome, with their dad a close match. They stood in stark contrast to Neil, who was short and light skinned and skinny as all hell. Abby was constantly telling him he needed to eat more. Neil didn’t have the heart to tell her that he ate a lot, he just never gained any weight with it. He would just smile and nod, letting her shove more food onto his plate.

David had met Abby almost five years after Kevin’s mother had died. Well, reconnected would probably be a better term, Neil thought, due to the fact that they had gone to college together with Kayleigh, the three of them pretty good friends throughout their years.

After they reconnected, he hadn’t been looking for another relationship. And Abby never attempted to push for one, fine with giving him his space and helping him raise his kids as friends, loving him as much as she would let him without pushing his boundaries. It wasn’t until almost ten years after Kayleigh had passed that he decided to remarry, asking Kevin and Neil if they were comfortable with the idea. Neither objected; Abby was already like their second mother, and they wouldn’t wish for anyone else to help raise them.

Neil didn’t like to think about how angry Abby would be if she knew he was going to the revel. He didn’t want to think about how sad she would be if he came back injured.

He pushed his thoughts aside, curling up in his bed.

-+-

He had fallen asleep. 

While he slept, he dreamed that he was dressed in the same tunic and pants that he had found under his bed. He was riding a horse through the woods, fast enough to only see blurs of trees around him.

Then the trees seemed to part, and by the light of the full moon, he found himself looking down at a group of humans kneeling in the dirt. They were surrounded by faeries on their own horses, all of them sneering down at the man, woman, and child that they circled. They were dressed in modern clothing, flannel and jeans, as if they had been camping. A tent, slashed and sagging, rested beside a dampened fire.

"Shall they live, or shall they die?" one of the Folk asked his companions. He said it as if he didn't really care either way. His horse pawed at the ground. "I bet they came out here to glimpse sweet little faeries gathering dewdrops. Surely that's enough reason to cut them down, no matter how they cry and beg."

"Let us see what talents they posses," said another, climbing down from his horse. "We could let the most amusing one go."

"What say we give the big one ears like a fox?" shouted a third. Her earrings chimed like the bells on her horse's bridle. "Give his mate whiskers. Or claws like an owl."

"Leave the little one for the Prince," said the fourth. He smiled at the child. "Maybe he'll play with it for a while before he eats it."

"No," said another voice. Whose was that? He couldn't see them. "They've ventured into the Great King's woods on a full moon night, and they must have the full measure of their hospitality."

He felt himself moving, swinging from atop his horse. It was when it hit him.

This voice was him.

He spoke with so much authority, with such a cold hatred that made Neil's skin crawl. He felt himself smiling, the same sharp and deadly smile that he caught himself with every now and then. The family looked up at him with as much fear as they'd looked at the faeries. Almost as if he were a faerie, too.

"Let us curse them to be rocks until a mortal recognizes their true nature."

"That could take thousands of years," said the first one, the careless one, with a lift of a brow.

"It could also take far longer than that," Neil heard himself say. "But think of the tales they'd tell if they ever did win their freedom."

The human man began to cry, pulling his child to him. He looked so betrayed, Neil thought. He must have loved stories of the faeries when he was little. Enough to go searching for the real thing.

He should have read those stories a bit more carefully.

The second rider laughed. "I should like to see other mortals picnic upon them. Yes, let's do that. Turn them to stone."

One of them began to beg, but Neil looked up at the stars above him and began counting, rather than listening.

-+-

Neil awoke, sweating and panting. HIs clothes had been removed, and he laid in his boxers, panicked and alone.

His clothes were thrown in a pile on the floor beside his bed. He sat up, swinging off the mattress to get changed. He checked the clock on his bedside table: 11:45.

He got dressed quickly, sneaking quietly down the stairs and out the back door, hopping his fence and jogging the rest of the way to Andrew's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 in a day. ha-cha-cha


	10. Ten.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changelings are fish you’re supposed to throw back. A cuckoo raised by sparrows. They don’t quite fit anywhere.

Changelings are fish you’re supposed to throw back. A cuckoo raised by sparrows. They don’t quite fit anywhere.

Andrew grew up knowing he was strange, and at first, he had no idea why. He wasn’t  _ adopted  _ \-- he could see that. He looked just like his brother Aaron. He had the same blue eyes as his mother and the same freckles on his nose. But something was wrong. He might have his dad’s blonde hair, but that didn’t seem to stop him from constantly glancing at Andrew as if he were ready to strike. It was an expression that screamed  _ you are not what you seem. _

His mother gave hot cocoa and sang him songs. His grandmother held him and told him stories.

One story began with a village by the Ibo River. In it, a woman named Bola had a son who grew too large to carry on her back to the market. So Bola waited until he was sleeping and went without him, latching the door shut behind her. When she returned, he was still asleep, but all of the food in their house had been eaten. She wondered whether anyone could have snuck into the house, but the door had not been forced and nothing else was missing.

Soon after, a neighbor came to Bola and asked her to repay a string of cowrie shells. Bola hadn’t borrowed any, and told her as much. But the woman insisted, saying that Bola’s son had come to her and said he had been sent on an errand by his mother, who needed the shells to buy more food.

Bola shook her head and brought her into the room where her son was sleeping.

“See?” She said. “My baby is very little, for too small to walk and talk. How could he have come to your door? How could he have asked to borrow cowries?”

The neighbor stared in confusion. She said that the boy who had come to her looked a lot like the sleeping boy, but much bigger. Bola became distressed. She didn’t doubt her neighbor and believed that her child must have been possessed by an evil spirit. When her husband came home, she told him everything, and together they made a plan.

Her husband hid himself in the house while Bola went to the market, leaving the baby sleeping behind a latched door, exactly like before. Her husband watched as the child stood, his body stretching until it grew to the size of a ten-year-old. Then he began eating. He ate everything in their cabinets, and would not stop.

His father, finally recovering from the shock of what he’d witnessed, stepped from his hiding place and called the child’s name. At the sound of his father’s voice, the boy shrank down to the size of a baby again. Bola and her husband knew that their son was possessed by a spirit. They beat the child with rushes to drive the spirit out. Finally, the spirit fled, leaving them with their baby again.

Andrew hated that story. It did not stop his grandmother from telling it.

Years later, when Andrew had found out the real truth about how he had become a part of the family, he remembered the folktale. He understood why his father looked at him the way he did. He was not his father’s son, nor his mother’s. He was not even asked into the family. He was forced into it, given to them without their permission. He was wearing borrowed skin, watching them with borrowed eyes, and living with them in the life he’d almost stolen from Aaron.

And, like Bola’s child, Andrew was always hungry. He ate and ate and ate, and had an insane craving for sweets. Ice cream, chocolate, cake, doughnuts, anything that he could get his hands on.

But not just sweets. It was anything he could eat at all. Sometimes when his parents had taken them to the store, he would swallow whole cartons of eggs behind their backs. They would slide down his throat, shells and all, filling the aching emptiness inside of him. Sometimes he would buy three lunches at school. Sometimes he ate cotton balls soaked in water when he didn’t want to have to ask for a fifth helping.

The first time Andrew had met Neil Wymack, he thought that he might be a creature like him. He looked wild enough, with his hair and his face smeared with berry juice, running through the woods in bare feet, sword attached to his hip. Kevin had come stumbling behind him, clearly not as well versed in the forest’s paths as Neil was.

“We’re hunting for monsters,” Neil said, sliding to a halt a foot away from Andrew. He had a grin on his face that nearly reached his ears that were a bit too big for his face, and his front tooth was missing. He was a cliche, and Andrew was sold on him immediately. “Have you seen any?”

“How do you know I’m not a monster?” Andrew asked, and Neil snorted.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, jogging around Andrew and moving on into the woods. “If you were a monster, you would know.”

Andrew hadn’t been so sure. But Neil seemed certain, even after learning the truth, and Andrew grew to believe that more than anything, Neil was a nuisance that he did not want to get rid of. He was a martyr who was unafraid of anything. Unafraid of him.

And Kevin, he understood what it was like to have magic. He understood all of the ways it sucked.

Maybe that was why he had come to Andrew when Riko was sent out by Tetsuji. Maybe that’s why he asked Andrew for his protection, asked him to stop Riko from killing him and Thea and offering him a deal.

Maybe that’s why Andrew had accepted.

And so he had defended Kevin and Thea one day in a meadow, coming just in time to stop Riko from landing a killing blow on the knight that had betrayed her kingdom. And even after that, after Kevin’s hand had been broken and Thea had bee encased in glass, he and Kevin had stayed friends. Or as close to being friends as the two of them could get.

He told Kevin last year about the full-moon revels, and the riders that would come for him.

“Did they come again this month?” Kevin asked one day after school. They were walking home. Neil was busy for once, and unable to come along.

Andrew nodded.

“Does your mom know?”

Andrew shrugged. “She never says anything. But she still goes about the house with her charms and wards, so who knows.”

“If she knew she would say something though, wouldn’t she?” Kevin asked. Andrew shrugged again.

“Who knows with Bee. Who knows with any of them. The other day when she gave Aaron some dried holly berries for his jacket pockets, he got mad and threw one at me. It stung like a bitch.”

Kevin frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew shrugged a third time. He remembered how his skin had hurt for almost an hour later, as if he had a spider bite. Palmetto was full of protections, people carrying charms and wards to ensure safety from the Folk. People wore them around their necks, carried them in their pockets, smeared them on their doors. Saint-John’s-wort made him itch. Cold-shaped iron made him itch, too, unless it touched him -- then it burned. Pockets full of grave-dirt or oatmeal made him sneeze. Some amulets made his head hurt. Some made his head spin. None of it was deadly, but the constant discomfort was a reminder of how little he belonged here. How different he was.

“It would almost be better if they did know, I think,” Kevin said.

“Then you don’t know them,” Andrew said back, and Kevin went silent.

The riders come for the first time when he was 13. There were three of them, dressed in silvery grey and on three horses. One was black, one was white, and one was a deep red. He had woken from his sleep to the sound of music -- music that made him feel an intense longing for the forest and the night and the breeze and the casting-off of all human things. When he went to his window he could see them circling the yard, eyes flashing, hair billowing in the wind. They circled seven times before they stopped in front of his window, watching him expectantly. They were achingly beautiful and absolutely terrifying, black-eyes and red-mouthed. One wore a face familiar enough that it seemed almost from a dream. He knew, even without them saying anything, that they wanted him to follow. He shook his head, staying where he was, framed by the window sill, fingernails digging into the wood so hard that they left dents. After a few moments, they turned around, heading back into the forest.

When Andrew had woken up, the window had been thrown wide, despite his mother’s anointing of the lintel. Leaves were scattered all around his room.

“You’re not going with them next time, are you?” Kevin asked, his voice accusing. Andrew was silent.

Kevin’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, seriously? You’re considering it?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” Andrew snapped. “You can’t.”

He didn’t bother to tell Kevin that the third time they had come (and every time after) Andrew  _ had _ gone. He had regretted not riding alongside of them the first night. When he refused the second time, it had nearly broken him. But on the third night, he had gone. After he had come home, he knew that he was unable to refuse again.

Maybe Kevin saw something of what Andrew felt in his expression. He grew serious, looking out at the street as they walked.

“Sometimes I think about Thea,” he said. “I worry that she only liked me because my music made her like me. I think about how my music is what got her trapped in that coffin. And even knowing that, it doesn’t keep me from wanting to play again. It doesn’t stop me from thinking that maybe, if my hand wasn’t broken and I could still play, somehow I could use that gift to rescue her.”

He was quiet, and Andrew waited for him to finish.

“Every time I wanted something bad enough,” he said, “I would just play, and it would happen. I don’t know what to do with myself now that that isn’t an option when I want it the most.”

They walked the rest of the way home in silence. Maybe Kevin did know more than Andrew had thought. But there was no way he could understand how it felt to follow his own kind into the woods, riding faster than sound and feeling the wind through his hair. He couldn’t understand how it felt to dance all night, to drink wine that was made by the Folk, to finally feel as though he had a place that he felt a bit more comfortable in.

And he could never know the shame that Andrew felt every night that he came home, sweat still cooling on his skin, promising himself that he wouldn’t go back next month.

It was the one promise that he knew he would never be able to keep.


	11. Eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faerie hills are hollow, Abby had once told Neil. Hollow like faerie promises. All air and misdirection.

Andrew was waiting for Neil on the edge of the forest behind his house. He was dressed in all black, his armbands cutting off just below his t-shirt. He wore his Docs, and Neil once again made a mental note to ask his dad for a pair at Christmas.

“Took you long enough,” Andrew said in lieu of a greeting. He began walking, and Neil fell into step beside him.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.”

Andrew huffed out what Neil supposed was a laugh, and they continued on. Neil discovered quickly that Andrew knew his way through the forest very well -- much better than himself. And he could see much better in the dark, too, having no problem finding fallen logs or stepping over rocks that Neil nearly tripped over. He tried his best to keep up. He didn’t want Andrew thinking he couldn’t handle himself.

After about ten minutes, Andrew spoke.

“I need to tell you something before we get there.”

“Always be polite,” Neil said, reciting what he’d been told his whole life. “Always do what they ask you, unless it contradicts one of the other rules. Never thank them. Never eat their food, never sing if you suck at singing, never dance -- and never brag, ever, at all, under any circumstances. That kind of stuff?”

“Good for you, having the basic memory of a five-year-old,” Andrew said, climbing over a large rock. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“What, then?” Neil asked.

“I don’t think you understand just how big the revel is,” Andrew said. “I hate going. I don’t  _ want _ to go. But then I hear it, like a buzzing in the back of my brain that just won’t go away. It’s like someone whistling far off and I can barely hear the music, but I’m leaning forward, trying to hear it a bit better. So I go, and I tell myself that this will be it, that next time, I won’t go. But then the next time comes, and I do the same thing all over again.”

Neil watched Andrew’s jaw tighten. The confession seemed to have cost him something.

“I don’t know how to protect you,” he said finally. “I can stop one or two. But if the royal guard or the king himself attempts to step in, what am I supposed to do? I can’t take them all, Neil. I don’t know what they might try and do to you. They hate to be reminded of my human life.”

“And I’m a reminder?” Neil asked.

“To them,” Andrew said, “and to me. And I know that Kevin would never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

Neil frowned. “Kevin is not my keeper.”

Andrew looked at Neil, then, his eyes glowing golden in the darkness.

“Then I would never forgive myself, either.”

Neil was stunned into silence. It took him a moment to recover, and then he was climbing up after Andrew. He decided to repay the confession.

“I’ve been -- I’ve been losing time. I’m not sure how much.”

Andrew paused, studying Neil’s face for a long time.

“That’s not good,” he finally said, and Neil nodded.

They continued on in silence for a few minutes before Neil asked, “Will you... Look any different?”

Andrew turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. And then he smiled, wide and bright and sharp. It was nearly manic, and Neil had never seen anything like it.

“Not by much,” he said, and Neil felt a shiver run down his spine.

-+-

Neil hadn’t ventured this far into the forest since he was a child. They had been hiking for about thirty minutes before they reached a swell of a hill, ringed in thorn bushes that grew in a tangled mess to cover a set of steps that lead to the top of the hill. The foundation of an old building sat among the overgrown grass, with moss covered steps that were cracked and worn. Neil could hear the faint sound of music and laughter, flickering in and out as though brought by the wind.

He suddenly realized where they were.

This was the meetinghouse that the town founders had attempted to build before they had realized it was a hill sacred to the Folk. Whenever they would attempt to build anything, it would be dismantled by morning. Whatever land was cleared would be overgrown the next day. Tools were broken and men were caught in accidents that left them beaten and bruised, until finally, they moved the site of the meetinghouse miles away, where it was built without a single issue.

_ Faerie hills are hollow, _ Abby had once told Neil.  _ Hollow like faerie promises. All air and misdirection. _

Neil shuddered.

Andrew walked up to the overgrown bushes. The branches and brambles suddenly began shifting, forming a path. When it was finished, it looked as though there had always been a path there.

“Did you do that?” Neil asked. “Will it stay open for me?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew replied honestly. “Just stay close to me.”

Neil did, climbing the steps with his hand hovering behind Andrew’s back, keeping close enough that the branches closed righ at this heels with every step he took. Once they reached the top, at the arch, Andrew tapped his foot three times against the stone and spoke.

“Lords and ladies who walk unseen, lords and ladies all in green, three times I stamp upon the earth, let me in, green hill that gave me birth.”

“Just like that?” Neil asked, and Andrew turned. His smile was back, a gleam in his eye that Neil hadn’t seen before.

“Just like that,” he said, and let himself fall backward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit short, but i couldn't bring myself to NOT end it there.


	12. Twelve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lords and ladies who walk unseen, lords and ladies dressed in green, three times I stamp upon the earth...” Neil paused, thinking of the only reason they might let him in. “Let me in for the sake of mirth.”

Neil panicked almost as soon as Andrew had disappeared.

He didn’t even have time to cry out, stumbling forward to look down after him. But instead all he saw was the rest of the hill, and the foundation of the building, and the silvery grass. Not sure what else to do, he leaped through the arch, hoping it would take him too.

He landed in the grass, his knees hitting the ground hard. He hadn’t fallen anywhere; he was exactly where he had been before, alone and frustrated.

 _Just like that_ , Andrew had said. But the thorns hadn’t parted for him, and the poem was probably not going to work. He wasn’t born in the hill. He wasn’t a part of the fae. Was it a test? Was this Andrew’s way of telling him he should just head home?

Or maybe, if he changed the words, the poem might work?

He made his way back up to the arch, stomping his foot three times like Andrew did. He took a deep breath, and spoke:

“Lords and ladies who walk unseen, lords and ladies dressed in green, three times I stamp upon the earth...” Neil paused, thinking of the only reason they might let him in. “Let me in for the sake of mirth.”

He closed his eyes, stepping forward through the archway.

And then he was falling, like before, only this time he didn’t hit the ground. He fell _into_ it instead, the earth opening up and swallowing him whole. He took a deep breath, and then there was nothing but darkness around him.

And just as suddenly as he was falling, he was suddenly not. He was caught, suspended in a net of roots that seemed to hang from a ceiling. Below him was the revel, lit by tiny moving lights and leaping fires. There were dancing circles and banquet tables, faeries covered in furs and in armor and in great shimmering gowns. A few looked up and him and laughed, but most didn’t notice him. And then he saw, on the other side of the room, resting on a huge grey stone, a throne. It was covered in pelts, and a man in armor was seated upon it, a raven perched on his shoulder. The raven seemed to whisper something to him, and he looked up in Neil’s direction. He did not smile.

He had come to Tetsuji’s Court on a full-moon night. He was so, so stupid.

He tried to kick at the roots holding him, hoping for them to give way, but instead, they opened up for him, dropping him to the floor. He fell, hard, slamming his hip on the stone floor as he landed. He began to push himself up, and a hand helped steady him.

“Thanks,” he said on reflex. As soon as the words left his mouth he realized his mistake.

 _Never thank them_.

A giant creature stood in front of him, eyes wide, a look of disgust twisting its face. It let him go as if he had been touching something foul and strode off quickly.

“Sorry,” he called out after it, unsure if he had made things worse by doing so.

He took in the revel around him. It was unlike anything he had ever dreamed of, in a way that no stories could have ever told. Creatures danced on the earthen floor. Small faeries flitted through the crowds. Short folk played dice games and drank from ornate glasses as tall folk whirled in their dresses made of leaves.

They were terrifying and beautiful all at once.

 _Move_ , he told himself. _Don’t just stand here. Find Andrew._

That seemed easier said than done as he made his way through the crowds of Folk, avoiding dancing and eating and bumping into anyone. He had to get answers, about Thea and about Nathaniel and Ainsel and his lost time. Otherwise, this would all be for nothing.

“Will you take a drink?” A small goblin-like creature with eyes as black as a crow’s offered him a small tray of tiny, carved wood cups with some liquid inside. There was barely a thimbleful in each. “I swear by the corn and the moon that you will never taste a sweeter drop.”

“No, tha-” Neil caught himself this time, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

The creature shrugged and kept moving. Neil, though, was shaken. He knew the rules. They’d been drilled into his head since he was able to walk, but following them was a whole other challenge entirely.

Someone grabbed the back of his neck. He tensed, wheeling around in panic before realizing who it was that held him.

“Neil.” Andrew looked relieved at the sight of him. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“You left me,” he said, his voice a bit more accusing than he’d meant it to be.

“You were right behind me,” Andrew said. He was looking at Neil curiously, as if there was something on his face. Neil scrubbed at his cheek, wondering if there was dirt on it. “I thought you would follow me like on the path.”

“Well I couldn’t,” Neil said.

There was a woman beside Andrew. She was tall and spindly, with skin the color of river stone. Her eyes shone gold and green.

It was his mother.

“Red hair,” she said, grabbing Neil by the chin and turning his head back and forth, inspecting him. She tugged on his roots, and Neil winced. “They used to say that meant you were a witch. Are you a witch, boy?”

“No, ma’am,” Neil said. “Though I think you’re mistaken. I have black hair.”

The woman scoffed, looking offended that Neil would contradict her. “I can see, boy. Your hair is as red as mine is white.”

Neil looked at Andrew, who nodded. He still looked confused, his hand outstretched as if he were going to grab Neil’s face himself.

“Your eyes are blue, too.”

Neil felt sick.

“What?”

He tugged on the front of his hair, bringing a clump down in between his brows so he was looking at it cross-eyed.

It was auburn.

He choked a bit, confused as to why his looks had changed when Andrew’s hadn’t. He didn’t have time to think, though, before Andrew’s mother was moving the conversation on.

“What brings you here, then? Or should I ask who?”

“Nathaniel,” Neil said, hoping the names he had found would mean something. “Ainsel.”

The woman sneered, her eyes flashing. “Well aren’t you a wit?”

“So you know them?” Neil asked, stepping forward. Andrew leaned toward him, stopping him from moving further. Keeping him out of arm’s reach.

“How can it be that you do not recall?” She asked. “When all three of you are so well known?”

Neil frowned, confused. Did he know them?

The woman turned to Andrew. “And I think it was him who brought you here. This boy, and this boy alone. He was very wrong to do so. Whatever you are looking for, this is no place for you.”

Neil wasn’t sure how to answer. “Andrew? Sure he brought me, but-”

 _“Andrew_ ?” The faerie woman circled them, seeming to grow in size. Andrew stepped close to Neil, as if ready to throw himself between the woman and Neil if she reached for him again. “ _Andrew_ ? Is that what _she_ calls you? Andrew what? Did you take that woman’s last name, too? Did you take your place in that family, even though you should be here with me?”

“You gave me away,” Andrew said, his voice level. “Now I go by Andrew. I have a family and a life that you need to take no part in. It’s a shame, really, that you don’t have your replacement son here to fawn over instead. Isn’t it, Tilda?”

The woman’s face twisted into something dark and angry. She looked like an oncoming storm.

“Why should I care if he wishes to idle his time away in that wretched town? If he wants to be a human child, what is it to me? He can eat human food and sleep in a human bed and kiss a human mate, but I will always be waiting for him to realize that what is best for him is here.” She was directing her speech toward no one in particular, and Neil was unsure whether she was referring to Andrew, or to Aaron.

Andrew smiled, that same smile that Neil had seen before he fell backward through the archway.

“You have to grow where you’re planted,” he said, and it was the most human expression Neil had ever heard him say.

Tilda’s eyes locked onto Neil as if she could kill him with a glance.

“So have you come to pull him down off his white horse like in a ballad? Have you come to save him from us?” She paused, leaning in a bit, and Andrew pulled Neil back by his elbow.

“Or is he here to save you?”

Before either Neil or Andrew could answer, a royal guard approached, laying a hand on Neil’s shoulder. He wore shining silver armor, one with shoulder plates crafted to look like screaming faces picked out in shaped gold.

“The Great King would greet you.”

“He honors you,” Tilda said curtly, though her tone suggested otherwise.

“Lead on, then,” Neil said. He and Andrew started off with the guard, but Tilda snatched Andrew by the wrist before he could make it very far.

“Not you. You remain with me.”

Andrew turned slowly, his eyes flashing obsidian.

“Let go of me now, or I will take your hand and wear it as a trophy."

His voice was low, almost a growl, and Neil had never heard him speak that way before. Tilda most likely hadn’t, either, as she let go of him as if she’d been burned. The knight beside Neil spoke up, interrupting the dispute.

“Your presence was not requested, changeling,” he said. His voice oozed with superiority. “Besides, he does not mind coming with me. We have crossed swords before.”

Neil had no idea what he meant. Maybe he was one of the creatures he’d fought when he was younger? Either way, Andrew looked ready to object, his hands sliding beneath his armbands as if reaching for a weapon. Neil touched his wrists lightly.

“It’s okay, Andrew,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Jaw set, Andrew nodded, and stepped back to let the knight take Neil with him across the room to the throne.

The Great King Tetsuji sat on the throne that Neil had seen earlier. Horns like those of a stag rose from a circlet at his brow, and he wore a shining coat of midnight black raven feathers that spread out across the floor behind him. ON each finger, he wore a different, intricately shaped ring.

Across his lap was a golden sword with an ornate cross guard. For a moment he thought it was his own blade, the one missing from the box beneath his bed. But then he realized that his sword had a different hilt.

Resting at the king’s feet was Lola, the creature that he had bargained with so long ago. She waved, her fingers fluttering through the air, her smile still sinister. To the King’s right was a man with hair like Neil’s, and eyes an icy blue. He had a small throwing ax hanging from his hip, with a much larger war ax strapped to his back. He regarded Neil with fury, as though Neil had done something wrong that he had explicitly warned him against doing.

To the King’s left was Prince Riko, who was sneering down at him with a sick satisfaction.

Neil’s planned questions flew out of his head. He dropped to one knee, figuring that was something that he should do. As he went, he saw something shimmer among the intricate tiles on the floor, like a dropped coin searching for light.

Tetsuji leaned forward, peering down at Neil. His mouth was twisted in a cruel grimace.

“I do not remember telling you to come here.”

Neil looked up at him, baffled. “No, I-”

“In fact,” the King continued, cutting him off. “I have explicitly told you to _never_ come to a full-moon revel. And last night, though you were grievously needed to hunt with us, you ignored my summons. You came earlier tonight, before the revel began, and I graciously forgave your misdeeds. And yet here you are, directly opposing my orders once again. Have you forgotten our bargain so quickly? Have I not given you the deepest, dearest wish of your heart, an unasked-for boon? Have I not made you one of my company? Know that I could take it from you just as easily. There are far more unpleasant ways to serve me.”

Neil sat, silent, unmoving. His mouth hung open, and no words came out.

Something like realization passed over Tetsuji’s face, and he began to laugh.

“Ah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You are not my Nathaniel, are you? You are Neil, the one who lives in the day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (-:


	13. Thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, before Kayleigh Day had met the forest woman who blessed her son, before Andrew had come to live with Betsy Dobson, before Neil had been born, a human and a faerie had gotten married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably be pacing the amount of chapters I post in a day, but I'm writing these so fast and I'm too impatient to wait. Oh well.

Neil couldn’t breathe, his thoughts going a mile a minute. He thought maybe he should stand, or answer the King, since that might be the polite thing to do, but he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it.

 _Nathaniel_ the King had called him.

Tilda had asked him something weird, too. _So have you come to pull him off of his white horse like in a ballad?_

He knew a ballad that had something similar. It was called _Tam Lin_ , where a human knight was forced into the service of a faerie queen and saved by a human girl named Janet. Tam Lin was a human knight.

He thought of the message in the walnut. _Half your life to pay your debts_.

There was that odd thing the knight had said before he brought him over. About crossing swords.

He couldn’t think of anything to say.

So he said, “How?”

“Do you not remember the bargain you made?” Tetsuji asked, and Lola scoffed at his feet.

“I promised you half of my life,” Neil said. He was gaining some of his ability to think again. With it came his lip. “Like I could forget that. You’re saying that I’ve been paying my debt to you? I think I would remember that, too.”

Riko let out a bark of laughter. Tetsuji held out his hand to silence him.

“Does that not make me generous, then, to take these memories from you? Every night, from the moment you fall asleep to the moment your head touches your pillow again at dawn, you’re mine. You are my knight to command, and your own time during the daylight hours is unaffected. You have always had potential -- and I have guided that potential. I have made you into one of my numbers. A part of my Perfect Court.”

_The three of you are so well known-_

“I’m pretty sure that going without sleep for that long would kill someone,” Neil said brilliantly. “It’s impossible.”

“And yet,” Tetsuji said, gesturing at Neil as if it were an explanation. “Here you are. Carried through the air each night from your window. Trained by my best men, made one of my strongest knights. You are the knight you have always dreamed of being.”

Neil could hardly breathe. “I never dreamed of being our knight.”

“I’m sure,” Tetsuji said, amused, as if Neil had just told him an interesting joke. “I forbade you from telling your day self about our arrangement, but there is no small pleasure in seeing you so astonished.”

Neil felt as though he had no idea who he was. As if he’d betrayed everyone in some strange, twisted way, but he wasn’t sure how deep that betrayal went. He remembered his dream of riding alongside the other knights, punishing humans with a smile on his face. Who had he become?

“My hair,” he choked out. “My eyes. Why-”

“God,” Riko said from his perch beside Tetsuji. “He honestly has no idea about anything, does he?”

“Riko,” the Great King said, not unkindly, and Riko fell silent. He turned to Neil, though his face showed that he, too, seemed surprised by just how little Neil actually knew.

“You are part Fae,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The son of my most powerful General.”

He motioned to the man beside him, who grinned. It mirrored the smile that Neil wore in his dream, all sharp edges and murderous intent.

“You are the son of The Butcher,” the Great King said, and it felt as though the ground beneath him had caved in.

-+-

A long time ago, before Kayleigh Day had met the forest woman who blessed her son, before Andrew had come to live with Betsy Dobson, before Neil had been born, a human and a faerie had gotten married.

It had been done as a gift to the Great King, a family who had decided to sacrifice their daughter in repayment for riches that they could not even comprehend. The deal was made, and the King gave the woman to his best General on the condition that they should have a child.

“I wish to see the outcome,” he had said, “of a human child born into the world of the Folk. I wish to train him, to make him a part of my Court, and see if he will be strong enough to be of use.”

And so the woman bore a son, whom they named Nathaniel.

The woman, however, refused to allow her son to be used as an experiment.

She knew that leaving the Court would certainly mean death for the both of them. But she ran anyway, willing to risk death rather than stay there with her child. She had nearly reached the forest’s edge when she heard the horns signaling the guard to hunt her down. She knew she didn’t have much time, so she made her choice.

She had smuggled a potion from the castle. It was one that would change the appearance of those who drank it, making them impossible to track. The more you would drink, the longer the spell would last.

She popped the top off of the bottle, forcing it down her son’s throat.

He drank it all, and she watched as his hair changed from his bright auburn to a midnight black, his eyes draining from blue to brown. She left him on a park bench, fleeing into the night.

She did not make it out of the forest alive.

The boy, however, did.

-+-

Neil’s head was swimming with thoughts.

“When I had come to make that deal-”

“You may not have had his hair color or his eyes, but I’d recognize that face anywhere,” Lola said. “You have his smile.”

Something inside of Neil lurched.

“Naturally, we fixed your appearance the first night you came back,” the King said. “But we couldn’t very well send you back to the mortal world with a different hair and eye color, could we?”

The Court around the king laughed at the idea.

“Rejoice, Nathaniel,” the King said. “You are a fine knight. You have surpassed my expectations. It is why I have kept you alive.”

“I-” Neil began, but couldn’t find the words to finish his sentence. Tetsuji let his elbow rest on the arm of his throne, propping up his cheek with his knuckles.

“If you were not here to ask about that,” he said, “then why are you here?”

Neil took a deep breath, hoping his voice didn’t shake.

“I was going to ask about Thea.”

Tetsuji’s expression darkened.

“I know nothing other than the fact that I would like her back,” he said. “And even if I did, I do not believe that I would tell you.” He paused. “At least, not Neil.”

“You cannot simply let her go?” Neil asked, though he already knew the answer. He was pushing his luck, he knew it.

“She has shown me a great disrespect,” Tetsuji said. “First she leaves my Court after I have given so much to her. She leaves my Court for a human. A human who has killed my subjects, and is the son of the man who stole my greatest investment from me. And now, rather than accept the punishment bestowed upon her, she has broken free of her chains, and now hides from me and my men. And you would ask, Nathaniel, that I just forgive her?”

“Neil,” he reminds him, as nicely as possible. “And honestly? No. But I was kind of hoping anyway.”

Lola made a scoffing noise, and the corners of Tetsuji’s lips twitched.

“I will tell you this, _Neil_ ,” he leaned forward in his seat, gripping the edges of the arms of the throne. “You amuse me. So how about we make another bargain?”

“What kind of bargain?” Neil asked.

“I hunt for Thea. Whether I receive her in the day or night is no issue with me. Which means,” he said, lifting a hand to point it at Neil, “whichever version of yourself -- be it fae or human -- could bring her to me, and I will not use my full might against Palmetto. I will even keep my people in check. Things will go back to the way they used to be, years ago, when we were two separate worlds entirely.”

Neil let out a laugh, incredulous. “Bring you Thea?”

Tetsuji looked less than amused. “Yes. That was the order I intended to give Nathaniel, regardless, but last night he hadn’t shown up to receive it. But now I will offer it to you as well. That is two nights now that you have cost me your services, Nathaniel, be it unknowingly or not. You are to hunt down Thea Muldani, who has escaped her confinement. You are to kill anyone who is in league with her, or abetting her escape.”

He wanted Neil to bring him Thea.

He didn’t know that Neil had been the one to free her.

Did that mean this Ainsel person was on his side? Covering his tracks for him here in the Court?

He had seen Thea fight, seen her take down Riko, the Dark Prince. Could he really bring her to the King, even if he wanted to?

“Why me?” He managed to ask.

“I think it would be appropriate if you were the one to bring her to me,” Tetsuji said, “as you have spent more time with her as Neil. Perhaps you can persuade her. Or trick her. Either method will be fine with me, but one way or the other, I want her brought here.” He looked at Neil thoughtfully. “It would be a nice test, too, I think. To see if you are worth keeping.”

Neil stood, but Tetsuji stopped him before he could leave.

“Your better self will know better than to betray me,” he said. “But in case you have some idea of warning her, let me explain why you ought not to do that.” He turned to one of his knights. “Bring me Lackthorn.”

The King continued as the knight left the room. “You think I have done your people such grievous wrongs, but allow me to demonstrate what I could do without any effort at all."

A moment later, a goblin with gray skin and pointed ears came before the King, holding a dirty had in his hands.

“What pleasures do I allow you in town, Lackthorn?” Tetsuji asked.

The goblin shrugged. “Just a few, my King. I steal the cream and break some dishes. When a woman threw dirty water on me, I drowned her. Nothing more than you said I might do.”

Neil was unimpressed by his restraint. “You didn’t always let them go so far, though, did you?” He asked.

Tetsuji shook his head. “I have allowed more leeway as I have come to see what a blight you mortals are. But listen closely.” He turned back to the goblin. “Lackthorn, if I gave you leave to do what you’d like, what would you have done?”

“What would I have done?” The goblin laughed. “I’d set fires and burn up their houses, with them still inside. I’d pinch and pinch them until they ached to their very bones. I’d curse them so they’d pine away, then I’d gnaw on what was left. What would I do if you gave me leave?”

The goblin laughed again. “What wouldn’t I do?”

Tetsuji thanked the goblin and sent him on his way. He turned to Neil, his eyes shining.

“Be smart, Nathaniel. Lackthorn is one of my least dangerous citizens. Imagine the answer the Bone Maiden might give. Or Rawhead. Or even my nephew, Riko.” He motioned to his left, and Riko grinned. “Do not test my good will. Bring me Thea or I will set my troop upon Palmetto.”

Neil curled his hands into fists, feeling his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. He found his voice somewhere in the back of his throat.

“If you set them on the town, I will stop you.”

Tetsuji let out a cruel laugh. “You? Like a wren stops a sword? Go now, Nathaniel, and delight in the revel. Tomorrow is soon enough for you to begin your hunt. I will give you two days and two nights.”

The knight with the shoulder plates stepped to Neil’s side. Neil knew he was dismissed.

“Oh,” the Great King said suddenly, and Neil turned back to face him. “One more thing. I know you have that sword -- the one that was stolen from me so many years ago. And I know that you have been using it. But when Thea comes back, I will need it. Bring it to me and hand it over, as well as Thea, and I will forgive your debt. Now, aren’t you pleased that I have given you this task?”

“How long have I served you?” Neil asked, bitterness rising in his voice. “I made that vow when I was almost 11. I’m 17 now. That’s six years, give or take.”

“Ah,” Lola said at Tetsuji’s feet, “but you’ve only served half of that time, Junior. You owe the King all of your daylight hours yet.”

-+-

He moved through the crowd numbly until he found Andrew, who was standing beside a table full of plates piled with food and lined with goblets of what he assumed was wine.

 _These are Andrew’s people_ , Neil thought, watching Andrew watch the crowd as they danced.

 _These are_ my _people_.

His head hurt. This was all familiar to Andrew, but not to Neil. Although he had spent the better part of 6 years here, he couldn’t remember a single moment of it.

Who was he?

Andrew caught sight of him, tilting his head in acknowledgment and stepping to the side so that Neil could lean against the table beside him.

“What did he say?” He asked. “Did you find out anything?”

Neil shook his head. There was no way he could tell Andrew everything. Not here, at least, with all of the eyes and ears watching, listening, ready to report back to the King, to tell him all about his knight Nathaniel and the things he was doing.

He made a mental list.

Step one: determine if his nighttime self was evil.

Step two: Find out who was leaving him notes. Find out if it was the same person who’d gotten him to break Thea’s coffin open. Figure out if it was the same person who had his sword.

Step three: Figure out whether Ainsel was a friend or an enemy.

Step four: Figure out how he was supposed to bring Thea to Tetsuji, or if he should at all.

It was enough to make him go crazy. Andrew just watched him quietly, looking the most relaxed that Neil had ever seen him.

“You look nice like this,” Neil said, and Andrew shoved Neil’s face so he looked in the opposite direction.

“Staring,” he said, and Neil couldn’t help it.

He laughed.


	14. Fourteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re asleep for nearly six years, and the first thing you do when you wake up is want to tell me a story,” Kevin said. Thea smiled.
> 
> “Yes, and you should listen closely,” she said.

Kevin stood in Neil’s empty room, looking with disbelief at the note that he had left on his bed.

_ Don’t get mad at Andrew. I made him take me. Don’t worry, I’m fine. _

He punched the wall with his bad hand, too angry to fully feel the pain of the impact. He was furious. At Neil, at himself, at the world.

Neil had always been what Kevin couldn’t be. He was headstrong, impulsive, with no real concerns about how his actions would affect things. But what he lacked in concern he made up for in caring. He wanted to protect people -- the town, his friends, his family. Kevin.

He protected Kevin from his own cowardice, from his own lack of nerve when it came to anything regarding the fae or the gift that he was given. He was unafraid of anything, always coming back with a smart remark or with a stubbornness that Kevin was amazed by every time.

Neil was very brave.

He was very stupid, too, for running off like this.

Kevin tried calling Andrew’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried Neil’s, and heard it ringing in the room next door. He had left it behind, apparently.

He laid out on his bed, annoyance nearly beating out his exhaustion. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night, knowing that Thea was out there somewhere, awake, in danger. He had no idea what to do. Lying there, pondering, it was easy for his eyes to slip closed and for him to drift off to sleep.

-+-

He woke up freezing.

He sat up, arms wrapped around himself, spotting the open window across the room. He blinked at it slowly, eyes trying to focus on the darkness outside. He had no idea what time it was, but he was hungry and had a slight headache. And then he remembered:

When he had gone to sleep, the window had been closed.

Adrenaline and dread and the kind of excitement that turns skin to ice flooded his veins. And then he heard a voice in his ear.

“Kevin Day.”

He nearly leaped out of his own skin. Thea was beside him on the bed, eyes shining, grin nearly reaching her ears. She let out a laugh at his shocked expression, and any fear Kevin had felt seemed to melt away at the sight of her. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her to him, as if she would disappear without him touching her to make sure she was real.

“Thea,” Kevin said, because it was all that he  _ could _ say.

She shone in the moonlight coming in through the window, her eyes sparkling and her hair full of leaves. She had mud smeared across her cheek, and a scratch from what looked like a tree branch across her forearm. When Kevin tucked some of her locs behind her ears, he could see the points of them poking out from between the strands. She was crushingly, heart-stoppingly beautiful.

Kevin could nearly cry.

“I want to tell you a story,” Thea said softly, adjusting her position so that she was sitting behind Kevin. She pulled him toward her, letting his back rest against her chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. She told him once that it was her favorite way to sit with him, that his hair was so soft, and she liked to feel his breathing against her skin. She said that it relaxed her, made her forget about everything except them, at that moment. He had missed it, too, and welcomed the scrape of her fingernails against his scalp as she played with his hair. He closed his eyes, drinking her in, grateful for this moment that they could spend together.

“You’re asleep for nearly six years, and the first thing you do when you wake up is want to tell me a story,” Kevin said. Thea smiled.

“Yes, and you should listen closely,” she said. Kevin nodded, and she began.

“It is mostly solitary fey who dwell in deep forests like those that surround Palmetto, and solitary fey are not well liked by the trooping gentry from the faerie courts. They are too ugly, too wild, their violence unrefined.”

“Solitary fey?” Kevin asked.

“Tricky phookas. Green ladies who will strip a man’s flesh from his bones if he steps into the wrong bog. Hollow-backed women who inspire artists to heights of creativity and depths of despair. Trow men, with long, hairy tails and large appetites. Those kinds of fey. Those of us who make their homes in the wild or at a mortal hearth. Those who do not live at the courts, who do not play at kings and queens and pages. Those who are not gentry, like the King.”

Thea rested her chin on top of Kevin’s head, letting her arms drape down his shoulders like an open scarf.

“I was born to a court lady before Tetsuji’s exile from the Eastern Branch. I was not born from anyone important. Not a secret daughter of the king, or any of his mistresses. But the Crown Prince, Ichirou, was close to my mother. She was a trusted confidante, a loyal advisor, and a good friend to him throughout his lifetime. King Kengo advised him to leave her be, to not bring her this close to the political matters of the family, but the Prince refused. Kengo did not take any action against him, but Tetsuji did.

“He killed my mother,” Thea said. “I was a baby, so I do not miss her so terribly, though it does make me sad to think about what could have been, but never was. He claimed that she knew too much, was too close to Ichirou and would betray him to enemies if the time came for it.” She paused, shaking her head. “This was not true, of course, but who could know his real motivations for what he did.

“Maybe he was jealous,” she said, “or maybe he loved her and she did not return his favor. Or maybe they  _ were _ lovers, but he questioned her loyalty due to how close she was to the Crown Prince.”

She took a deep breath before sitting up. She began running her fingers through Kevin’s hair again, this time a bit more forcefully.

“I’ve thought about every possible detail,” she said. “I’ve had my whole life to do it.

“Naturally, the Crown Prince was furious. He went to his father, demanding Tetsuji’s execution due to a direct betrayal of his trust and treason to the crown. But Kengo had sympathy for his brother, and told Ichirou that if he had listened to him, and not grown so close with this woman, that none of this would have happened. He exiled him instead, much to Ichirou’s frustration. And when Tetsuji left, he took me with him.”

Kevin half-turned toward her, and she reached out to touch his cheek, where the wine-stain mark sat on his skin.

“He raised me,” she said. “Turning me into a wonderful weapon. I was nearly as strong as his Butcher, and equally as valued.”

“What happened?” Kevin asked, though he was sure he knew the answer.

“You,” Thea answered. She smiled. “And I am so grateful.”

“Is that why he wants you back so badly?” Kevin asked, and Thea nodded.

“One of the reasons,” she said. “The other is that I know too much.”

“About what?” Kevin asked. Thea let out a breath, looking out the window as if she could see something that Kevin couldn’t. Her eyes grew distant.

“I know the truth about Sorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a secret: I'm mostly winging this.
> 
> But there's a lot of exposition for ya.


	15. Fifteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t be a sap,” Andrew said, scoffing. “It’s not a good look on you.”
> 
> Neil smiled. “Are you saying that I have a good look?”
> 
> “Yes,” Andrew said. “Silence.”

It was nearly dawn by the time Neil and Andrew made it out of the hollow hill and back to the edge of the forest. They sat together on a large rock, watching the sky turn from black to a lazy purple. Andrew pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Neil plucked the first one he pulled out from his fingers, so he grabbed another one silently.

They had spent the night watching the Folk dance, Neil avoiding the food and drink and Andrew not one for dancing. It hadn’t been too bad, Neil thought, other than the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind that he knew he would have to face eventually.

As the stars began to disappear from the sky, Neil took a drag of his cigarette.

“I have two days to bring Thea to Tetsuji.”

Andrew looked at him, face passive, and he leaned back onto his hand to face Neil a bit better.

“I thought you said that he didn’t tell you anything,” he said, and Neil shrugged.

“I lied.”

Andrew didn’t look angry. Instead, he seemed intrigued. “Why?”

 _Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies_. What was that from? It echoed in Neil's head, a bit of nursery rhyme logic. He shrugged, attempting to be as honest as he could.

“There were too many people there. And I wanted you to be able to enjoy the revel without worrying.”

“Don’t be a sap,” Andrew said, scoffing. “It’s not a good look on you.”

Neil smiled. “Are you saying that I have a good look?”

“Yes,” Andrew said. “Silence.”

Neil laughed, leaning back on the rock to match Andrew’s position. He thought about the family from his dream, and how it might not have been a dream after all. He sat back up.

“I’ve been thinking,” Andrew said. “Why would Tetsuji single you out?”

He held up a hand to tick off thoughts on his fingers. “For some reason, he thinks you’re capable of bringing him Thea, when we both know that she could easily crush you without effort. You’re making no moves to deny him, when normally you’re the first person to stupidly argue with a faerie king.” He looked at Neil, something in his eyes flashing. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“My heart is beating a mile a minute,” Neil said, attempting to stall. He knew Andrew was smart enough to realize that he was omitting things. The thought of someone else understanding what he was going through, of knowing the whole truth, was so tempting that he could taste it. Instead, he changed the subject. "I’m freaking out. Look, feel."

Andrew let Neil take his hand, flattening it out against his chest and feeling his pulse, palm open, cool and careful over his heart.

“Good,” Andrew said. “That means you’re at least somewhat normal.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be,” Neil said, “no matter how much I act the opposite. I’ve never had a problem with being normal, or plain. Playing knight was fun, but that was only because I was able to go back to being plain old Neil when we were done.” His voice was low, and he felt an ache in his chest at admitting it out loud.

He would never be normal again. Not now, not after learning the truth.

He wasn’t even fully human, anymore. He never was. And there was nothing normal about that.

“Distract me,” he finally choked out, looking at Andrew as if he could change everything; as if he could set everything back to the way it had been six years ago. He leaned in, his hand still covering Andrew’s, their fingers barely laced together. Neil’s fingers felt like they were on fire.

“Distract you?” Andrew asked, his eyes half-lidded, his hand still against Neil’s chest. Neil could feel the way that he leaned in, too, and his heartbeat began to race again. “Do you really want me to?”

“Yes,” Neil said, soft and sure.

“Don’t move,” Andrew said lowly, and Neil complied as Andrew softly pressed their lips together.

Andrew kissed him like it was the last time they would see each other. It was soft but firm, his lips chapped from the night out at the revel. Everything felt liquid and low. Neil couldn’t tell up from down, although he refused to move his hands to figure it out. Andrew kissed to the corner his lips, along his jaw, down his neck until Neil made a sound that stemmed from the back of his throat. It was more of a choke than anything, a whine that begged Andrew to keep moving.

He did not.

Instead, he pulled back, his eyes flashing gold, his ears twitching and his fingers grasping at the air, as if he were reaching for something that just wasn’t there.

“Tell me no,” he said. “Tell me to stop.”

“Why would I do that?” Neil asked, breathless, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Because I know a mental breakdown when I see one,” Andrew said. “And I know you’re not telling me everything. You’re using this to keep yourself from thinking about something else, Neil. I know you are.”

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t want it,” Neil argued, and Andrew pulled his hand back off of his chest. The space he left felt hollow, like a stone had been pulled out of the wrong part of a supporting structure, and Neil would collapse any minute because of it, folding in like a demolished building.

“It means that we can’t do this right now,” Andrew said. “I can’t do this right now. Not until you get yourself straightened out.”

Neil took in a shaky breath, understanding but not approving.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Neil said. “Everything I should have told you a while ago. Just promise you won’t get angry.”

“I promise no such thing,” Andrew said. “Tell me.”

And so he did. Everything, from hunting with Kevin, to his bargain, to waking up with mud on his feet and glass in his hands. To being told that he was part Folk, that his father was the Butcher and that his mother was a human who he was probably sure was dead. He told him about his lost time and what he had apparently been doing during all of those lost hours. Andrew sat, silent, until he was finished.

“So he told you that you’ve been serving him this whole time? As a knight?” Andrew asked. He had pulled out another cigarette during Neil’s explanation and now it sat, half-burned through, in between his fingers.

Neil nodded. “I guess it does sound kind of stupid when you say it out loud tho-”

Andrew was moving, then, fast and dangerous, a knife in his hand as he slashed at Neil without warning. Startled, Neil reacted almost without thinking, twisting his body so that Andrew’s arm met air before he reached out and grabbed his wrist, twisting hard enough to make Andrew drop his knife. He pushed Andrew’s shoulder, hard, so he almost fell backward off of the rock they sat on. It was over nearly as quickly as it had started, with a dumbfounded Neil and a slightly impressed Andrew staring at each other in stunned silence.

And then Andrew smiled, small but noticeable, and Neil let out a cry of protest.

“A knife?! Andrew, really?!”

Andrew shrugged, picking his cigarette up from off of the rock and taking another drag. “Obviously he was telling the truth. The only other person I’ve found with a reaction time that fast is Renee, and that’s because she’s had training.” He paused, looking at Neil out of the corner of his eye. “Which apparently you’ve had, too.”

Neil let out a laugh, despite himself. “You’re crazy,” he said, and Andrew only smiled.

“Like a loon,” he finished, snubbing out his cigarette on the rock. “Let’s go home before our parents realize we’re gone.”

-+-

They made the walk home in relative silence. It was comfortable, with the first light of dawn shining over the forest trees, turning everything a pale yellowish orange. Once they got to Andrew's, they turned to face each other.

"Are you okay to get home?" Andrew asked. Neil nodded.

"It's just a few blocks away."

"You could easily get killed in that time," Andrew said. "You'd probably find a way to piss off a deer or something."

Neil laughed, turning to leave. "I'll see you in a few hours," he said.

And then the back door opened.

Betsy strode out into the morning light, a rope wrapped around herself and her hair in curlers. She was barefoot and frowning.

Neil and Andrew froze, neither of them sure what to do.

"Aaron! I told you to stop sneaking out to see Kaitly-  _Andrew_?"

Andrew gave her a half-hearted two-finger salute. Neil had never seen him looked ashamed until this moment.

Betsy was unamused. "I expected this from your brother, Andrew, but not you. What were you two doing out all night toge...ther..."

She pieced it together. Neil scrambled to stop her.

"We were just hanging out," he said, though the panic in his voice betrayed him. "That's all. Hanging out."

"In the woods?" Betsy asked. "On the night of a full moon?" She said the words softly, and Neil could hear the hurt in her voice. She turned to Andrew, her voice as fragile as glass.

"You brought him to them? Andrew, how could you do?"

Andrew took a step back, as if her words had been a physical blow. Neil had never seen him this hurt.

"Please, Mrs. Dobson, it was me. I made him-"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Enough. I don't want to hear it. Andrew, you cannot be here right now. Take some time, reevaluate yourself, let me calm down. Then you can come back. Do you understand?"

Neil would have never thought Betsy would kick Andrew out. Ground him, maybe. Take away his sweets supply or his phone, sure. But never anything like this.

There was a muscle moving in Andrew's jaw and his eyes were flashing gold, silver, gold, silver, green, gold, silver again. He didn't say anything, didn't protest, didn't beg. He just nodded, once, and then turned away and started walking, leaving Neil to run after him.

"We'll go to my house," he said. Andrew nodded.

Together without speaking, they walked, keeping to the edge of the road. Neil was tempted to run, but didn't. He wanted to clear his head. When they got home, he would. They could plan their next steps together.

Andrew kept pace with him, striding along as if they were gunfighters heading into a strange new town, looking for trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but sweet, I suppose. Please feel free to let me know if this is seeming to derail. I'm a bit paranoid if I'm being honest here.


	16. Sixteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you slept at all since you’ve woken up? Because that means you’ve been awake for what, almost 48 hours straight?”
> 
> Thea nodded, eyes half shut.
> 
> “And you’re just planning to never sleep again?” Kevin asked, amazed.
> 
> Thea smiled. “I am not too tired to detect sarcasm, Kevin.”
> 
> “It’s not exactly sarcasm,” Kevin said. “It’s more of me questioning your better judgment.”

Kevin sat at his desk, watching Thea sleep from across the room. He realized that he was probably being weird, and maybe a bit clingy, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that she was okay, that she was awake, that she was  _ here _ with  _ him _ in his room at his house in the middle of the night, sleeping on his bed. His room was an ordinary place, filled with ordinary things, but Thea was the least ordinary thing he could ever imagine.

They’d talked for hours in the dark, sharing stories and making up for lost time. He had asked her to elaborate on Sorrow, to explain to him what was going on, but she said it wasn’t her place to reveal other people’s secrets. Not without them there, at least. Kevin could respect that, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t make him antsy to get Neil and Andrew back to figure things out.

Once it had gotten close to dawn, Thea had yawned, and Kevin had offered her the bed.

“If you’d like to rest,” he said, and Thea sighed.

“I don’t think I should,” she said. “I’m afraid I would not wake up again.”

Kevin considered that. “Have you slept at all since you’ve woken up? Because that means you’ve been awake for what, almost 48 hours straight?”

Thea nodded, eyes half shut.

“And you’re just planning to never sleep  _ again _ ?” Kevin asked, amazed.

Thea smiled. “I am not too tired to detect sarcasm, Kevin.”

“It’s not exactly sarcasm,” Kevin said. “It’s more of me questioning your better judgment.”

Thea laughed, letting herself lie out on the bed while Kevin climbed off to sit on his office chair across the room. Thea was asleep before he sat down, her breaths coming out even and soft.

And so Kevin sat in silence, alone with his thoughts until he heard the stairs creak. He shot out of his chair and made his way to the door, cracking it open to look out. Neil was climbing up the stairs, dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair sticking out at odd angles as though he’d been tugging on the roots. It almost looked like it flashed red under the hallway light, but when Kevin blinked again it was back to black. Andrew was right behind him, looking ready to beat something until his knuckles were bleeding. Kevin watched as they went into Neil’s room.

Kevin watched the door close, wondering exactly where they had been all night. He figured that wherever he had made Andrew take him was no good, and he would find out no matter what, not letting Neil lie to him about this like he had a habit of doing. He was about to leave his room to ask him when the door to Neil’s own room opened and then closed. Neil came out, silent, and Kevin thought for a minute that he was going to the bathroom. He thought he might be able to catch him before he got there.

Instead, Neil stopped halfway down the hallway, leaning his head against the wall.

And then he started to sob.

Well, it wasn’t sobbing exactly, Kevin thought as he watched him. It was fewer tears and more full-body shaking, and he tugged on his hair as he took in large gulps of air, as if he were attempting to breathe underwater. He lowered himself to the floor, doubled over, nearly clawing at the back of his neck as he touched his forehead to his knees. He began to choke, coughing on the air he was trying to take in, and this seemed to snap him out of things enough for him to recompose himself before heading to the bathroom like Kevin had thought he would be doing originally.

Kevin was shaken up, unsure as to why Neil had been panicking in the hallway. Neil was unafraid of anything, nothing phased him. So if this were something that would throw Neil off, what was Kevin going to do?

He stepped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind him and waiting in the hall for Neil to exit the bathroom. It took a minute before he did, his head down as he turned off the lights and closed the door behind him. When he looked up he jumped, startled at Kevin’s presence in the hall.

“What are you doing?” Neil whispered. He wasn’t angry, just tired. Kevin could relate.

“Waiting for you,” Kevin said. “I want you to explain everything to me.”

Neil sighed, as if his day had been awful and couldn’t get much worse anyway, so he might as well answer Kevin’s dumb questions. He nodded in the direction of his room, and Kevin followed him inside. 

Andrew sat on the bed, unlacing his Docs. He looked up when the two of them came in, and he looked just as tired as Neil.

“We went to the faerie revel,” Neil said, sitting down heavily on his bed. Kevin hadn’t expected the answer so quickly and outright. “It didn’t exactly go the way I’d hoped. I found out some things. Most of them bad.” He paused, reconsidering. “Actually, no. All of them bad. Tetsuji offered to trade the town’s safety for Thea. There’s only a few hundred problems with this, the most important being that he’s crazy. The second most important being that the idea of a safe town is bullshit.”

Kevin stared at him. He had seen his share of Folk. Those had been scary enough. He couldn’t possibly imagine walking into a room full of them, let alone on their home turf.

“The King wants you to bring him Thea?”

Neil nodded. “So we need to find her. He told me not to warn her, but he didn’t say anything about one of you doing it.”

Kevin’s eyes shifted toward the wall separating his and Neil’s rooms. Andrew noticed immediately.

“She’s here.”

Neil stood almost immediately, heading to the door to his room. Kevin leaped in front of him, arms outstretched, barricading the door with his own body

“You can’t,” he said. Neil frowned.

“I will do what I have to, Kevin,” he said. “Get out of my way.”

Kevin stood to his full height so he towered over Neil. Neil did not move.

“If I let you go, you need to promise that you will tell me  _ everything _ ,” he said. “Everything that you’ve been hiding from me. Deal?”

Neil nodded. “I should have a long time ago.”

Kevin paused for a minute, looking at Neil, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Eventually, he stood aside, though Neil made no attempt to leave.

“Make sure she stays?” He asked. “We can figure it out after we all sleep a bit. Please.”

Kevin nodded, turning to leave.

Andrew made to climb off the bed and follow, maybe to sleep on the couch in the living room, but Neil reached out and grabbed his fingers.

“Stay?” He asked softly, letting the tips of their fingers lace together.

Andrew looked helpless to refuse.

-+-

Thea was sitting up in his bed when he got back into his room. She was frowning, legs crossed beneath her.

“I am not a prize to be won, Kevin Day,” she said. Kevin winced.

“I see you heard some of that,” he said. “Don’t worry. Neil couldn’t take you if he tried.”

“I know he couldn’t,” Thea said, rolling her eyes. “That doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit here and wait for him to attempt it anyway.”

“Please don’t leave.” It came out too rushed, too desperate, and Kevin winced again at himself. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Please. Neil went to the revel last night. He talked to Tetsuji. We need to pool information, figure out next moves.”

Thea watched him for a long time, seeming to inspect his face for something that would tell her what to do. She seemed to figure it out, though, finally sighing and leaning forward on the bed to grab Kevin’s face in her hands, kissing him.

She let him go, sitting back again and leaning against his wall.

“I will stay here, then, and pool information with the lot of you.” She took in Kevin’s flushed face, grinning playfully. “Is it bad that I like that you tremble? That you flinch? That you turn a wonderful shade of pink?”

“It’s probably not ideal,” Kevin said, and Thea laughed, high and happy, and Kevin could think of nothing other than how lost he was to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My true hidden agenda is shoving in as many moments of Kevin Day being helplessly in love with Thea Muldani as I possibly can, thank you.


	17. Seventeen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin’s demeanor flipped from angry to terrified in a matter of seconds.
> 
> “Neil, what did you do?”

Neil had never slept in a bed with someone else before. He thought that it might highlight all of the things he was bad at -- that maybe he would spend his time stealing the covers, or they would be constantly bumping into each other, or he’d sleep talk or something. What he didn’t count on was what it would feel like to have Andrew’s weight beside him. He didn’t consider the fact that he would wake up with Andrew’s face so close, his head resting on the same pillow, Andrew’s back pressed against the wall and Neil right across.

Andrew didn’t like to be touched. This was common knowledge. A combination of the fact that most people wore wards and charms that irritated him, and the fact that, being a changeling, he had been subject to a lot of terrible things as a child. Beatings, mostly, abuse from other schoolchildren or other adults that would strike him if he spoke out when Betsy wasn’t around. Neil had heard a story from Allison about a time when a group of middle school kids had held him down when he was younger, holding iron rods to the skin on his arms and stomach, forcing holly berries in his mouth, laughing and smiling at how the Monster squirmed and cried.

The second half of the story was the part that Neil preferred, where Andrew and the boys had hit high school and Andrew ran into them one day in the halls. The boys had started to go after him, but they had ended up being the ones bruised and broken and bleeding on the floor of the school. Everyone had pointed to Andrew, but there was no evidence to prove that he’d done anything.

“I was there that day,” Allison said. “It was the craziest thing you’ve ever seen. He smiled at them, and it was terrifying, and then he whispered something in one of their ears and suddenly that kid was just wailing on himself and the other guys like he had some kind of vendetta against them. And Andrew just left, smiling, and didn’t even bother to watch for the outcome.”

Neil loved a happy ending.

And that’s what he felt he had now, in his bed beside Andrew. He knew that the story wasn’t done. He knew that if anything, it was just beginning, the setup for something that could drag on for ages and maybe even end up with them dead.

But for now, here, Neil was content enough to watch Andrew as he slept, taking in his features and holding his hands to his own chest to keep them from wandering.

Neil had no problem with giving Andrew his space. He had no problem with waiting until things were resolved to ask Andrew to kiss him again. He had no problems with taking things at Andrew’s pace. He was just amazed that Andrew was in his life in the first place, here and understanding and standing beside him even after finding out the truth about him, and the truth about what he’d done.

Andrew shifted, stretching a bit, and the scene looked enough like a sleeping cat that it made Neil smile.

“Staring,” Andrew mumbled, pressing his face further into the pillow. He pressed a hand to Neil’s face, pushing backward. Neil laughed.

“Your eyes are closed. You can’t see me.”

“I can see you just fine, asshole,” Andrew said. “And your dumb grin is still enough to make me want to kill you.”

“You like me,” Neil said, his stomach flipping at the words. Saying it out loud seemed to make it real.

“I hate you,” Andrew said. “Every inch of you.”

Neil didn’t respond. He sat up instead, still smiling, pulling the covers off of himself and Andrew in an attempt to wake him up.

Andrew, in retaliation, threw a pillow at Neil’s head.

Neil dodged as his bedroom door opened and Kevin walked in carrying two cups of coffee. He dodged the pillow thrown in his direction, rolling his eyes and holding out one of the cups in his hand to Neil. He gave the other to Andrew. Neil took a sip, looking past Kevin and toward Thea, who was leaning against the doorframe. She shot him a grin, waving, almost like a taunt. The coffee tasted bitter on Neil’s tongue.

“I see you have lost my sword,” Thea said, and Neil frowned.

“It was not yours,” he said. “I’ve had that thing for years.”

“Who do you think left it by Fox Lake?” she asked. “It was stolen from me by a halfling many years ago, and when I saw you with it, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for it back. It was cute, watching you swing it around as if somehow you knew how to use it.”

Neil felt his cheeks heat, and he averted his eyes from her as she laughed. 

“I’m too hungry for this,” Andrew said, sitting up and sliding off of Neil’s bed. “Let’s go to Eden’s.”

-+-

Eden’s was a diner in downtown Palmetto. It had been there for years, and had been the first job Andrew had ever had. He had been a busboy, his cousin Nicky a waiter, and Aaron had done hosting for a bit. They were all friends with the head cook Roland, who was a cheerful man who treated his customers great and his friends greater.

They took the booth in the back of the diner, the same place they always sat, and Nicky came by to take their order and drop off their drinks. Neil caught sight of Matt, Dan, Allison, and Renee a few booths down, and he waved to them before he, Andrew, Thea -- who was wearing large shades and a sunhat, the most cliche disguise Neil could think of -- and Kevin fell into a huddle to talk about plans.

“So,” Thea said. “I suppose that your note did lead us here, though it wasn’t in the way we’d originally intended.”

Andrew snorted a bit, taking a handful of complimentary cheese toast that Roland had sent over for him. Kevin looked between them, confused.

“That’s true,” he said. “You also never told me why the two of you have a code.”

Andrew sighed. “I went through Thea to meet Tilda.”

Neil raised an eyebrow. Kevin just looked even more confused.

“That’s my birth mother,” Andrew elaborated, and Kevin’s confusion eased a bit. “Once you and Thea started talking, I decided that I may as well try and figure some stuff out. So I sent messages to and through Thea. We used a code in case Tetsuji or Riko caught us. Or even Aaron and Betsy.”

Kevin’s eyes grew wide. “The riders-”

“Came for me about 6 months after I sent Tilda my first message,” Andrew finished. “She knew where I was, then. I mean, she always did, but she knew that I wasn’t entirely opposed to seeing how things worked with the Folk.”

“Are you on good terms?” Kevin asked. 

“Not even close,” Andrew said. “I just know that I needed to see what it was like to be full Fae for a bit. I needed to know where I came from. Like wanting to know your birth family’s medical history if you’re adopted, or something.” He stuffed another piece of cheese toast in his mouth. “Plus, I need to make sure that she stays away from Aaron. If she attempts to touch him ever again, I will kill her.”

No one seemed surprised. Andrew looked at Thea.

“What about you, then? What do you know?”

Thea explained her history, where she came from and how she came to be here, with them.

“I know about Sorrow,” she said. “Tetsuji is having a hard time controlling her. She’s begun venturing off, hurting people on the outskirts of town. She’s moving closer, and he doesn’t want his plans spoiled.”

“Plans?” Neil asked. Thea nodded.

“He was planning on using her to level the town,” she said. Neil’s blood ran cold. “But since she’s gotten unruly, he’s not quite sure what to do. I think that’s why he wants Heartsworn. It’s the only thing that can defeat her.”

“Heartsworn?” This time it was Kevin who asked. Thea motioned toward Neil.

“His sword,” she said. “It was the legendary blade that could cut through everything. When Tetsuji left the Eastern Court, he didn’t just steal me. He also stole the best weapons fabricator they had. He is amazing, able to make legendary artifacts beyond anyone’s dreams. Heartsworn is just one. There’s also Heartseeker, the blade that the King wields. It never misses its mark. Never. But it is not powerful enough to cut down Sorrow.”

“Where’s the sword now?” Kevin asked Neil. He could only shrug.

“I don’t know. It’s hidden.”

“Didn’t you hide it?” Kevin asked impatiently. “You can just grab it and we can go from there.”

Neil took a breath. “That’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t know where I hid it.”

Kevin looked at him, mouth hanging open.

“How can you not know where you put it?!” he cried, and Neil had to shush him to keep his voice down.

“I...” Neil took another breath, putting a hand to his forehead as he spoke. “At the revel, I discovered that I’ve been in the service of the King for the past six years. As soon as I go to sleep at night, I wake up and I’m someone else. And that guy, I don’t know what he’s done. He’s trained to fight, and he’s hidden Heartsworn somewhere, and my body might remember it all but I sure as hell don’t.”

Kevin stared Neil down with a cold fury, a million different emotions flitting across his face in the span of a few seconds. Finally, he slammed his fist onto the table, rattling their glasses and causing the cheese bread to jump inside of its basket.

“You have to understand,” Neil said quickly, shooting a look in the direction of Matt’s table, who had all become increasingly quiet as Kevin got louder. “I made a bargain a long time ago. I didn’t know-”

“You made a bargain,” Kevin said slowly. His voice was quiet, dangerously low. “You grew up in this town. You know better. You’ve stopped me from trying to make a deal for Thea, and this is what you’ve done instead?”

“I didn’t know if your deal would somehow counteract mine,” Neil argued. “I didn’t want you to get played like I did-”

“Oh, yes!” Kevin cried, throwing his hands in the air. “Because we should all learn from Neil’s mistakes! Neil, who does things on others behalf, who plays a god-damn martyr even though no one asks him to!”

Neil felt his heart in his throat. He could see Matt saying something to Dan from across the diner, and he hoped that he wasn’t planning on coming to try and help.

“Why did you do it?” Kevin asked. “What did you bargain for?”

“I needed you to be okay. We had started hunting because of me. It was my fault. I couldn’t-”

Kevin’s demeanor flipped from angry to terrified in a matter of seconds.

“ _ Neil, what did you do?” _

“Half of my life,” Neil choked out. “Half of my life to save your and Thea’s.”

Kevin’s face drained of color.

“You did this for me?” He asked, his voice hollow. “For Thea?”

“No,” Neil said. “I did this for me. I’m selfish. I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t be alone.”

“What was the exact nature of the bargain?” Thea asked. Her face was stoic, betraying no emotion. Neil found it easier to look at her.

“I gave up half of my life to save yours and Kevin’s. Lola said that the King would need payment, like a hand or a finger. I thought they meant mine, Kevin, I thought they meant-” He looked at Kevin, but the shock on his face caused him to look away almost immediately. “And I guess that he decided to turn me into a knight instead.”

“But why?” Thea asked. “Why turn a human into one of his knights? Why allow you a spot on his court?”

“Because I was a part of it, to begin with,” he said, and proceeded to explain.

By the time he was finished, Andrew had gone through two baskets of cheese bread, and Kevin looked like he had never met Neil a day before in his life.

“This is why you never told me,” he said, and Neil nodded.

“Neil,” Thea said slowly. “Nathaniel. Son of the Butcher and... Mary....” Her eyes widened, and she looked nearly panicked. “Neil, Nathaniel, I know now. I know what it all means. Why it’s all-  _ Neil _ , Neil, Sorrow. Sorrow, she’s-”

Thea’s sentence was cut off by a scream from Allison.

Neil stood quickly, nearly toppling the table in his haste to get out of the booth. Allison’s screams were followed by wails, from Dan and Renee and Nicky at the front counter. And it wasn’t just them, but other customers as well. Dozens of them were crying, some of them practically screaming, clawing at themselves to attempt to make it stop. Neil scrambled to get to the booth, checking them for any damage.

There was none. There was only crying, sobbing as if they were in the worst pain of their lives.

Matt reached for Neil’s sleeve, tears streaming down his face.

“Matt,” Neil asked, panicked. “ _ Matt _ ! What’s wrong, what’s happening?”

“She’s coming,” he sobbed, and Allison echoed him, followed by Dan. “She’s coming.”

“She’s almost here,” Renee said. “I can’t stop. It’s so sad, I can’t stop, she’s coming-”

Dan scrambled out of the booth, clawing at Neil’s legs, her eyes nearly swollen shut from her tears.

“They took him,” she said. “They took him and they killed me and he’s gone. Why is he gone? Where is he? They took him and they killed me and he’s gone.”

Neil was panicking, unsure of what was happening, horrified that he was going to watch his friends die.

The front windows of Eden’s shattered inward, glass scattering across the floor as a figure stood in the center of the opening it had made.

Its size blocked the sun, causing a dark shadow to fall over the sobbing diner-goers. Moss crept along the tile floor, the smell of leaf mold and vegetal rot hitting Neil’s senses at once. Vines began to sprout from the walls, crawling their way along the wallpaper like some kind of decorations.

One of the customers began to vomit soil, the heavy dirt falling from their mouths as they continued to cry.

Neil turned to look at the others, hoping that Thea or Andrew could help him make sense of this.

Thea stood, stock still, her eyes wide and her expression panicked.

“It’s Sorrow,” she said. “She’s here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((-:


	18. Eighteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I loved him, I loved him and they took him, they took him. I’m dead and gone and bones and they took him, they took him, they took him from me. Where did he go? Where did he go? I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead and gone and bones.”

Thea was moving before anyone else.

She overturned the table that they were at, yelling at Kevin to get down, and for Andrew to begin protective charms. And then she was airborne, launching herself off of a neighboring table and into the air, landing a solid kick to Sorrow’s face.

There was no effect.

The monster didn’t even move, hardly felt it as it moved forward agonizingly low, vines and moss and rotting leaves sprouting from every step it took. Thea cursed to herself and spun around, pointing at Neil.

“Get them out of here,” she called. “I’ll hold her off for as long as I can.”

Neil nodded in acknowledgment, tugging on Matt’s arm.

“Grab Dan,” he said, and Matt let out a shaky nod through his tears.

They were halfway to the exit before Sorrow’s affects truly hit Neil.

He felt helpless, practically unable to move. His eyes had begun to fill with tears, his throat already thick with them, with everything he’d ever lost crowding his head. He remembered looking down at Adam Hick’s body, half-rotted. He thought about Kevin’s hand, mangled and broken the day he was dropped on their front porch. He remembered Abby’s tears as she drove them to the hospital, David’s heartbroken expression when the doctor said that Kevin would never be able to play again, of the way that Kevin’s nails had blackened and had fallen off, one by one. He thought of the loss of a mother he’d never known, the idea of his father being a murderous general at the right hand of the King, of the fact that he’d brought everyone in on this mislead adventure without so much as considering how it would affect them.

Neil wanted more than anything to lie down on the sticky linoleum floor, curl up, weep forever, and never rise again.

It seemed pointless not to give in, to keep standing, but he kept standing anyway. It seemed pointless to drag his friends from the diner to push them out into the parking lot of Eden’s, but he did it anyway.

_ Get inside and pull the fire alarm _ , he told himself. He didn’t think he could.

_ You don’t have to think you can, _ he told himself.  _ Just fucking do it. _

As he made his way back inside the sounds of weeping grew unbelievably loud, nearly drowning all of his other thoughts. He felt along the wall until he found the red metal lever of the fire alarm. HIs fingers closed around it and, putting all of his weight against it, brought it down as hard as he could.

The alarm sounded immediately, followed by the sprinklers. It was louder than the crying, louder than the screams, louder than the cries that the monster was making as Thea dodged and weaved in and out of its vision, distracting it as Neil attempted to stand and direct the other customers out of the building. After a moment, they began moving, shuffling slowly, their cheeks wet and eyes red-rimmed.

Neil, Kevin, and Andrew made their own way out of the diner last, huddling in the doorway to make sure Thea got out okay. But then Neil spotted Dan moving across the parking lot, pushing against the people heading in the opposite direction, Matt chasing after her. He tried tugging on her wrist but she just shook him off. She was walking strangely, as if she was half dragging herself along, as if her limbs had become unfamiliar to her. Her expression was blank, seeming to slide over everything until it fell on Neil.

She made her way toward him, her lips looking blue in the light until Neil realized that they were actually green, stained from the inside, as though she’d been eating sour apple Laffy Taffy. Neil didn’t move, fear freezing him to the spot. He’d been scared before, but the revulsion he felt at the way that Dan moved was different.

Neil knew that he was looking at Dan’s body, but Dan was no longer looking out through her own eyes.

“Dan,” Neil said, as whatever-she-was got closer. He threw up a hand automatically, stopping short from pushing her back.

A voice that was not Dan’s came from her mouth. Her head was tilted to one side.

“I wanted to protect him and he’s gone. I wanted him with me and they took him. I’m dead and gone and bones, dead and gone and bones. They took him, they took him, I’m dead and gone and bones.”

With every word, clumps of dirt fell from her tongue.

“What are you doing with Dan?” Neil asked shakily. The parking lot was nearly empty now. Only Kevin, Andrew, Matt, Allison and Renee were left. Them, and Dan. The alarm was still ringing, but somehow Dan’s voice seemed to carry out over it with no problem.

“I loved him, I loved him and they took him, they took him. I’m dead and gone and bones and they took him, they took him, they took him from me. Where did he go? Where did he go? I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead and gone and bones.”

Dan was the captain of the school’s exy team and Matt’s girlfriend. Neil had met her after Matt had invited him out to a party in the woods and he had gone, deciding that attempting to make friends with the junior from his calculus class was better than sitting alone with Kevin for the rest of high school. Dan was a constant light, a girl that was stronger than anyone Neil knew, who took no shit, who never cared about the faeries in the woods. They were just stories to Dan; she thought all of the tourist stuff was a scam and that the tourists themselves were boring, desperate for someone to tell them they were special. She and Allison both said the same thing: the fae were children’s tales. They couldn’t touch you unless you let them.

And now Dan would have no choice but to believe in the Folk. The thought made Neil furious.

“You can’t have her,” he said, anger rising in his voice. He could feel something in the air shift, a spark that wasn’t there before, and he stood up to his full height and held out his arm, letting his fingers spread out, pressing his palm to Dan’s chest, directly above her heart. “Go. Go, now, for you are not welcome here. Give her back. Find solace elsewhere.”

Abruptly, Dan’s eyes rolled upward, until Neil could only see the whites of her eyes. And then she collapsed, her whole body going limp. Luckily Matt was there to catch her, bringing her to the floor as gently as possible.

Neil knelt down, fumbling for Dan’s wrist to take her pulse before he realized that he had no idea how to do that. His breathing began to become sporadic, panicked, and he felt tears well up in his throat as he heard Matt calling for help.

And then Dan’s eyes flew open.

She bolted upwards, blinking wildly, coughing so hard that it was more like choking. She looked at Neil, eyes wide, the expression a combination of embarrassment and terror. It was entirely human.

“Neil,” she said, her voice scratched like she’d just recovered from the flu. She looked at Matt, gripping at his hand like she would disappear if she let go.

“You’re okay,” Neil said, but it sounded more like a question. Dan nodded slowly, pushing herself upward into a half-sitting position, wiping at her chin.

“I saw it,” she said. “I saw the monster. Really  _ saw _ it. It’s made of old, knotted branches grown over with moss, and it had horrible black eyes.” She reached outward. “Neil, I felt her. I  _ felt _ her. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

The alarm was still wailing, though the monster was nowhere to be seen. Thea had made her way back out of the diner, but Neil wasn’t quite sure when.

“Nice hair,” she said, reaching out a hand to tug on Neil's bangs. He pulled a strand down and looked at it cross-eyed. It was auburn. Somehow it had changed.

“You always knew this was all real, didn’t you?” Dan asked. “How can you stand it?”

Neil wasn’t sure what else to do, so he shrugged. Dan let out a cough, but maybe it was meant to be a laugh. And then she shuddered once before collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. Matt shouted and shook her shoulders, but she was entirely limp, her breathing shallow.

The monster was no longer content to wait in the heart of the forest. Sorrow had come to Palmetto, and Neil wasn’t even sure it could be slain


	19. Nineteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A meeting at the Dobson’s? For what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've kept this scene pretty close to the books, mainly due to the fact that this was the scene that inspired me to write the entire AU in the first place.
> 
> Also, I love Betsy Dobson with my heart and soul, and would give my left arm to allow Andrew to be a Dobson, too.

By the time they got back to Neil’s house, David was waiting on the front porch, his arms folded across his chest. The four of them got out of the car, prepared for a lecture.

“Would one of you kindly like to tell me what the fuck is going on?” he asked, and Neil shrugged.

“You know, the same as usual,” he said. David didn’t seem to appreciate the attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“The captain of my exy team was sent to the hospital in a coma today. Three other students have joined her. Thea here gets broken out of her prison, you’re sneaking out on full moon nights even though I explicitly remember telling you not to do that -  _ yes _ , Neil, I know about that - and now you come back from the scene of a monster’s rampage and have the nerve to say ‘same as usual’?” he looked tired, unsure whether to yell or just give up entirely. He seemed to go for a combination of both.

“There’s a meeting at the Dobson’s today. I’m going. And you are all staying here.”

Andrew frowned. Neil mirrored him.

“A meeting at the Dobson’s? For what?”

“It’s about how they think all of the stuff that’s been happening in town lately can be traced back to Andrew,” David said, some of the anger receding from his voice. “Something about him not being returned to Faerieland.” He looked at Andrew, his eyes weary. “They want to give you back.”

Andrew’s face became blank, passive. “Betsy thinks that?”

“He’s not some pet you can just... rehome!” Hot angry flashed within Neil. He wanted to punch something until it bled.

“I don’t think your parents have anything to do with this,” David said. “I think it’s just a bunch of scared people being stupid.”

“That’s why she sent me away,” Andrew said softly, as if he wanted to them to be true but was afraid of being wrong. “It wasn’t because she didn’t want me to come home. She just didn’t want me knowing that everyone else was coming.”

He turned, suddenly, and began walking quickly in the direction of his house. Neil ran to catch him. “Andrew! Andrew, you can’t-”

“They’re going to blame them if I’m not there,” he said. “They’re going to blame Bee.”

“Andrew, everyone in town will be there,” Neil said. “You know this has nothing to do with you.”

“And that’s what I’m going to tell them,” Andrew said, not slowing down.

“Then I’m going to.” Neil turned around, calling out to the others at the house. “I’m going too!”

“I just told you to stay here!” David called back, but Neil ignored him, following Andrew to his house.

-+-

The Dobson house was a shingle-style colonial in perfect condition. It was big, old, and lovingly restored. It was big enough to house half the town -- which, from the look of it, was good, because half of the town was inside.

Andrew’s hands curled into fists as he marched across the yard.

He threw open the front door as he stepped into the hallway. All of the woodwork inside had been painted a crisp, shining white. It gleamed in the sun-filled rooms where people stood around or sat in folding chairs, balancing styrofoam cups of tea on their laps. Ottomans and chairs had been brought from throughout the house to accommodate the sheer number of people present. No one noticed Neil and Andrew enter.

Mrs. Pitts, who worked at the post office, was shaking her head at Betsy.

“It’s not as though everyone prefers things to be this way, Betsy,” she said. “We can’t help thinking that -- well, what you did, it strained our relationship with the forest people. It’s not a coincidence that they got worse right around the time you stole Andrew from them.”

“We need to put things right,” said the sheriff. “In the last month, something has been going on in the woods. Some of you may have heard about a few incidents that never made it to the paper, and word has been spreading about what happened at Eden’s this morning. Dan Wilds wasn’t the first person to end up in a coma. There was a drifter kid found on the side of the road about a month back. Multiple hikers, or high schoolers that spent a bit too long in the forest at night. One man was found in his car. The whole thing was overgrown with vines so big that it took emergency services nearly half an hour to cut it open. They’re moving against us, the faeries, and if anyone hoped that the girl in the coffin waking up meant that she was going to save us, I think that it’s clear now that she’s not.”

Neil thought about Tetsuji’s promise-- if Neil brought him Thea, then things in the town would go back to normal, would be the way they once were. As if that were a generous offer.

_ What would I do if you gave me leave? _ The goblin had said.  _ What wouldn’t I do? _

“We can’t trust that changeling,” said Mr. Browning, the guy who owned the gun range on the far side of town.

“Andrew is friends with my daughter,” said Mrs. Walker. She was Renee’s mom, and Neil was relieved to see her defend him. She was well respected in town. “I’ve known him all of his life. Blaming him, just because he’s the only one of the Folk that most of us have ever met, is wrong. He’s been raised here. He’s a citizen of Palmetto, just like the rest of us.”

Neil could tell, though, that the others weren’t convinced. They’d already decided.

“The Folk were good to us in Palmetto,” said old Mrs. Kirtling, standing underneath two Spanish-American war sabers and looking particularly indomitable. She’d been mayor many years ago, and hadn’t been too bad. “We had an understanding. Something scuppered that.”

“They have not always been good to us, Mrs. Kirtling,” Betsy said calmly. “Do not attempt to rewrite history just to make what you are asking easier to advocate for. No, it is not a coincidence that they got worse when Andrew came to us. If you’ll recall, they did not take our children the way that they took Aaron.”

“Well, maybe  _ good _ is too strong of a word,” Browning said. “But you can’t deny that living in this town is different from other places. And you can’t deny that you like it here, because you dragged your husband back from that Ivy League school instead of going off with him. If normal was what you wanted, then you would be living in Chicago, and then there would be no Andrew anyway.”

Beside Neil, Andrew stiffened.

Mrs. Kirtling nodded. “Now, you got your son back from They Themselves and you even got to raise one of theirs for a good long while, despite having no claim on him except in the poor judgment of his mother. But you can’t have thought to keep him forever.”

Neil had seen the college brochures on the Dobson corkboard in the front hallway. She had absolutely been planning on forever. Looking around the room, Neil spotted teachers from school, shopkeepers, and parents of people he’d known her whole life, even a few kids. Most of them were nodding, acting as if handing Andrew to the faeries was more than just the means of assuaging their fears.

“It’s like when you find one of those cute buzzard babies,” said a girl that Neil recognized as one of Kaitlyn’s cheerleader friends. “You want to take it home and feed it and take care of it, but if you do, you’ll drive the hunting instinct right out. It won’t be able to survive on its own later when it needs to. He doesn’t belong here, Mrs. Dobson. You need to send him back.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s a little late for that metaphor?” Aaron said, unfolding himself from where he had apparently been hiding on the stairs. “The damage is done. She already fed him, or whatever. What you’re really saying is that Andrew won’t be able to survive if we send him back now.”

“ _ Aaron _ ,” Betsy said, her tone indicating that he wasn’t supposed to have spoken.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not sounding very sorry at all. He swung back to his spot on the stairs, but then he startled, noticing Neil and Andrew standing in the hallway across from him.

“We’ll take all that you’ve said under advisement, but I hope you understand that this is a decision for the family and-” Betsy cut herself off as she followed Aaron’s gaze. Her whole body went rigid as she spotted Andrew. All around the room, conversation flared up and then died just as quickly as everyone realized that the person they had been speaking about had heard everything that they’d said.

“I’ll go,” Andrew said to the silence.

There was only the squeak of styrofoam cups and nervous swallows of tea. No one seemed sure of what to say.

“Yeah,” Neil said, grabbing the edge of Andrew’s coat sleeve and giving it a tug. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No,” Andrew said, eyes flicking to Neil for a moment before he turned, locking eyes with Betsy across the room. “I mean I’ll go, if that’s what you all want.”

Bee smiled, small and sad, shaking her head softly. “No, Andrew,” she said. “I don’t want that. You’re staying.”

Her voice was final and definite, but Neil could see people nodding to one another around the room, already accepting his offer. Those few words, in a town like this, made a compact that might not be able to be undone. At least, not if he didn’t say something right then.

“Tell them,” he said, but Andrew shook his head.

“Tell them,” he said again, his voice nearly pleading. “Tell them about Tetsuji, about Sorrow. Even about me. Andrew, I can vouch for you. We all can.”

“They won’t believe me,” Andrew said. “And they’ll find a way to not believe you, either.”

“Betsy, be reasonable,” one of the people across the room said. Neil couldn’t tell who it was, the rush of blood to his ears had him seeing red. “Maybe he doesn’t want to stay with us, anyway. We’re not his people.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Aaron said from the stairs. Andrew turned to face him, his eyebrows pulled together.

“You don’t get to make my decisions for me.”

Aaron laughed. “That’s funny coming from you, the guy who makes all of  _ my _ decisions for  _ me _ . You won’t even let me date, Andrew. I can’t go anywhere that’s out of your sight. I’m surprised you haven’t forced an ankle bracelet on me yet. No, this time I think that this will be the one decision I  _ will _ make for you.”

“I only do that to protect you,” Andrew said. “We had a deal. I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”

“And now I’m holding up mine,” Aaron said. He turned to face the room full of people. He was smiling, sharp and sinister, and Neil had to look twice to make sure that it wasn’t Andrew on the stairs. They may not be identical, but sometimes the resemblance was scary.

“How about I go?” he asked. The wicked curve of his smile was nearly a perfect copy of Andrew’s. “Maybe they’re mad that  _ I _ got stolen back from them. Did anyone ever think of that?” He looked around the room defiantly, as if daring them to tell him that he was wrong. “Maybe they’d like to have me and not him at all.”

“That’s very noble,” Mrs. Kirtling said. “But I don’t think-”

“No,” Aaron said, leaning against the staircase banister. “You don’t think. And that’s exactly your problem.”

Mrs. Kirtling looked shocked. Before she could protest, Betsy took a step forward.

“Andrew,” she said, “listen to me. You don’t want anyone to get hurt when you could prevent it, even if that means putting yourself in danger. You’re a good boy, a boy who puts himself before other people, and so you have, volunteering where these cowards thought that they'd have to force you out, or trick you.” She looked around the room, daring anyone to contradict her. “They believe your father and I will insist you not go at first, but in the end, we’d put the welfare of the town before your own welfare. They think that when push comes to shove, we’d give you up. And I bet your other family thinks so, too.”

Andrew looked stunned. His face had gone blank in what might have been surprise but was also certainly fear of what would be said next. Betsy looked across the room to her husband, who stood against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. He nodded at her, and she smiled, turning back to Andrew.

“Your father and I had a long talk about this last night,” she said. “As far as we’re concerned, Andrew, the whole town can burn; what we care about is you.”

At that, Andrew let out a laugh. A real laugh, in clear surprise and maybe delight and maybe relief and maybe even embarrassment. It was an odd reaction, however, and Neil could see that register on the faces of the townspeople. Faeries laughed at funerals and cried at weddings. They didn’t show human emotions in regards to human things.

“This is really turning into a show,” Browning said, frowning and putting a hand to his eyes. His fingers came away wet. He let out a soft sob, turning around in confusion.

Then the sheriff began to weep. And Mrs. Kirtling. And Kaitlyn’s cheerleader friend. Soon the entire room was weeping, tears springing to their eyes, a few of them grabbing at the roots of their hair anxiously as they wailed.

Neil turned toward Andrew, whose expression had changed to that of anger. He shook his head, as though what was happening wasn’t real. But Neil could hear it; the sound of Sorrow flowed through him. It was like being caught in the current of a river, like a diver who had lost any sense of direction, thrashing around, not knowing which way was up.

And then Neil blinked.

Andrew had just finished tying a knot into his hair. He gripped his neck, leaning close enough so Neil could feel his breath on his skin.

“You will not weep until I give you leave,” he said, and Neil could feel his sadness wash away, breaking the surface and clawing for air.

The front door slammed open, and Kevin and Thea ran into the room.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” His voice had the effect of glass crashing to the floor and shattering. Everyone stared.

“The monster from the heart of the forest,” he said, nearly out of breath. “Sorrow. She’s coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway who's ready for Sorrow round 2 lol


	20. Twenty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dazed, he looked up at the creature leaning over him. Branches and moss and shining eyes.
> 
> It was as if he had seen her before.

Thea stood behind Kevin in the doorway, and for a moment Neil saw her the way everyone else must have. Tall and inhumanly beautiful, her dark skin in stark contrast with the milk-white walls behind her, her dreaded hair falling to her waist, moss-green eyes following their movements. It didn’t matter that she had changed into some of Kevin’s old clothes. She was not ordinary. She was their vision of what faeries ought to be; she was the dream that brought them to Palmetto, that caused them to want to stay, despite all of the dangers.

“Find cover,” Thea instructed, walking to the wall where the two sabers rested and pulling them from their sheaths. For a moment she held one in each hand, testing their weight and balance. Then she smiled, looking across the room at Neil, tossing him one of the blades.

He caught it before he knew that he could. It felt right in his hand, like an extension of his own arm, like a missing limb restored. The weight of it was decent. It wasn’t his sword, but it was a real one all the same, not some cheap knock-off sold to tourists. He wondered if it was expensive, because he was pretty sure that it would end up broken by the end of this fight.

His blood began to race, and he wasn’t sure if he should feel sick or excited.

“Normal blades can’t cut her,” he said, and Thea shrugged.

“We just need to drive her back,” she said, heading toward the door. “Tire her out. She doesn’t really want to hurt anyone.”

Andrew snorted from across the room. “Yeah, right.”

Thea shot him a look, but he was too busy to pay attention, crouched over Betsy and his father and Aaron, whispering in their ears one at a time, his fingers fumbling in their hair the same way he’d done with Neil.

He braced himself, not entirely sure what to do with his sword. His insecurities began to run rampant through his mind. Nathaniel may be able to wield a sword and fight with legendary and powerful knights, but this was not Nathaniel. This was Neil. He didn’t even have his magical sword -- all he had was some ancient thing that would probably break like a toothpick the second he swung it at Sorrow.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

_ You are a knight _ , he told himself, as if that could channel some of his night-self into his actions.  _ You are a knight. You are a knight. _

When he opened his eyes, the monster was in the doorway. All around him, those who had not yet begun to cry ran for cover in other rooms. Others hid behind furniture, and others simply stood, frozen in fear at the sight of the towering beast.

Neil stood his ground.

He hadn’t been able to fully catch sight of her in Eden’s. He had been busy trying to run, his eyes filled with tears that were too hard to see through. But now that she stood in front of him, he was able to clearly see her for what she was. She was not, as he was expecting, something grotesque and hideous. She was not disgusting, slimy, or anything that cliche children's tales make monsters out to be.

She was, instead, the embodiment of a living tree. She was covered in moss and drying, decaying vine. She had branches instead of bone, and roots spreading from her feet like the train of a dress. From her head rose a wild thicket of tiny branches, sticking up along one side, matted with thick clumps of dirt and leaves. Black eyes peered out from knotholes in the wood. Sticky reddish sap wetted her face, running from the knotholes of her eyes, mimicking the path of tears. She towered over them, at least two feet taller than anyone else in the room.

She was as beautiful as she was terrifying.

Thea took a hesitant step forward, her arm outstretched, as if she were attempting to calm a wild animal.

“Please,” she said quietly. “Please, let me help.”

Sorrow didn’t even seem to see her. A voice, thick with tears, spoke from the throats of people throughout the room like a chorus of anguish.

“Where has he gone?” They asked. “I wanted to protect him and they took him from me. Now I am dead, dead and gone and bones. My boy is gone. Where is he? He is gone, and I am dead, dead and gone and bones.”

More people began to weep. Sobs racked bodies.

Sorrow took a step toward Thea, knocking a side table to the ground. When she spoke, she sounded more like the wind blowing through the trees than any human voice. “I loved him and I loved him and I’m dead and gone and bones. I loved him and they took him from me. Where is he? Where is he? Dead and gone and bones. Dead and gone and bones. My husband took him, my King demanded him, and they took him, they took him, and I’m dead and gone and bones.”

“No one took him,” Thea said softly. “No one took him, he is here. He is okay. You would not wish this. Please, please do not make me try and stop you.”

But Sorrow continued to move into the room, Neil and Thea circling her the whole time. People shrieked. Mrs. Kirtling, in a panic, ran across the room, straight into the monster’s path. A long arm with willow-twig fingers reached out and brushed her aside like a cobweb. The small gesture, though, sent her hurtling into the wall. Plaster cracked, and with a moan, she slid to the floor.

In the newly formed crack, moss and vines began to grow, spilling into the room like water into the hull of a leaking boat.

On the other side of the room, a woman began to cough up dirt.

Without any idea what else to do, Neil stabbed his saber into the monster’s side.

All of his life he’d heard stories of the creature in the heart of the forest. He’d imagined that if he had been able to slay the monster, the faeries may go back to being kind, only pestering the townsfolk on occasion with pranks done in good jest. He’d imagined it so much that even though he’d known better, some part of him had believed that when he stabbed the monster’s flank, it would cut deeply.

Instead, it left no mark at all, pulling out of the monster’s side covered in dirt as if it had been buried into soil. It did, however, make Sorrow turn toward him, long fingers reaching out to grab him. Neil ducked, feeling the brush of dry leaves and the smell of fresh-turned earth. He wasn’t quite fast enough, though, to dodge her entirely, and she grabbed him by the back of the shirt, hurling him across the room and into a sofa, saber flying from his hand to clatter across the floor.

Bruised, he pushed himself up, climbing off of the couch and making his way to where the saber was. He made himself pick it up, his bones feeling like they were rattling together, and he turned back toward the monster. Thea had leaped onto its back, holding on to the branches and vines, looking as though she was attempting to speak to it. But the monster just shook her off and then thundered toward where she fell.

It was then that Aaron came hurling toward Sorrow, swinging the exy racquet that he kept stored in the downstairs closet toward her like a weapon. Thea cried out, but it was too late, and the momentum carried Aaron’s swing through until it connected with the monster’s back, cracking the racquet in half like a splinter.

The creature wrapped her long fingers around him, pulling him toward her. Neil raced toward them, slamming his saber into the monster’s back. She didn’t even seem to notice.

“Hey!”

Andrew called out from across the room, and then something shattered against the monster, covering it in what smelled like whiskey. Beside Andrew, the liquor cabinet was empty.

“I’ll set you on fire,” he said, holding out his Zippo lighter like a loaded gun. “Get away from them, and get the fuck out of here.”

Sorrow seemed to regard him for a long moment, letting Aaron slip from her grip and crumble to the floor like a ragdoll. A green stain was spreading across his lips.

It happened so fast.

Hazel heard a girl scream from across the room. He glanced in that direction to see Kevin dragging her sobbing body to hide it behind the piano.

Andrew’s lighter sparked a flame.

The monster rushed at him, fast enough that the flame flickered out in his hand. Neil threw himself between them, raising his saber, going for the creature’s eyes.

“NO,” Thea screamed, reaching out as if to stop him from her place by the front door.

Andrew flicked the lighter again, but as he did, the room became filled with rushing wing. Somewhere in the distance, crows cried out to each other.

With a howl of pain, Thea launched herself onto the monster’s back, holding her saber to her throat in what seemed like a last-ditch effort to stop her. Maybe she hoped she would be afraid, maybe she hoped that the monster wouldn’t call her bluff. But instead, she shook herself like a wild bull, attempting to throw Thea off of her once again. Neil slashed at anything he could find; her arms, her legs, her sides. No blow made a single mark. Neil was batted against the wall, thrown into a group of people huddled together, who all screamed when he tumbled into them.

He was sore all over. Standing took a great effort. His head rang, and he was almost too dizzy to stand. He blinked, attempting to clear blood and sweat from his eyes. He had a dozen cuts that were bleeding that he didn’t quite remember getting. He had no idea how much longer he could do this.

Thea crashed against the floor in the hallway. She rolled into a stand, still moving, but Neil could see some part of her had given up.

And then the piano began to play.

Neil whirled around just as Sorrow knocked him off of his feet again. He hit the wood floor hard, slamming down onto it, the breath entirely knocked out of him. He rolled onto his side, opening his eyes enough to see his brother sitting on the piano bench, his broken fingers splayed across the keys.

Kevin was playing music.

The notes swelled around them. It was as though Kevin were playing the sound of weeping. Sorrow howled into the air.

And then he slipped. The music faltered. He couldn’t do it. His broken fingers, the ones that hadn’t been set right, the ones that had never fully healed, weren’t nimble enough for the piano.

Neil shouldn’t have been staring in astonishment. He should have been moving, using this moment as an opportunity that he had given him. Neil pushed himself to his feet, hoping that it wasn’t too late.

He ran for Sorrow, but she was already waiting for him. It snatched him off of the ground and threw him into the sofa so hard that the legs snapped. It rolled backward, taking Neil with it. Dazed, he looked up at the creature leaning over him. Branches and moss and shining eyes.

It was as if he had seen her before.

“Dead and gone and bones,” she said softly. “Dead and gone and bones.”

One of her hands shot out toward him. Neil braced for a blow that never came.

On the other side of the room, beside the piano, Kevin had begun to sing.

Formless notes, like the ones he might have played if his fingers had worked, rose from his throat. It sounded almost like weeping, like her wails. It was grief, terrible and immobilizing. Despite the knot in his hair and Andrew’s spell, Neil felt tears burning in his throat, clouding his vision through his eyes.

A keening, terrible sound came from Sorrow. She thrashed back and forth, knocking down chairs. The sharp broken ends of branches ripped the upholstery of the couch. She howled with grief.

“Kevin,” Neil called out, “You’re making it worse!”

But Kevin didn’t stop. He sang on. People wailed in despair, in rage. Tears wet their clothes and soaked their hair. They collapsed in heaps on the floor, pounding their fists against the wood. Sorrow thundered toward the piano, knocking it to one side. It fell with a terrible crash. She covered her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

And then Neil understood. Kevin was taking her through the storm of grief. He was singing her through the rage and despair. He was singing her through the terrible loneliness, because there was no way to shut off grief, no way to cast it aside or fight against it. The only way to end grief was to go through it.

As he realized it, the song began to change. It grew softer, sweeter, like the morning after a long cry when your head hurt but your heart was no longer broken. Like flowers blooming on a grave.

One by one around the room, the crying slowly stopped.

The monster grew still.

Kevin stopped his singing. He slumped down on the piano bench, exhausted. Thea dropped her sword, running across the room to him. She took him in her arms and he let her, resting his head against her chest.

For a moment there was only silence. Sorrow looked around with her knothole black eyes as if searching for something after waking from a long dream. And then her eyes settled on Neil.

She stared down at him and slowly reached out her fingers. This time she seemed conscious and aware, and Neil let her reach for him. Her expression was unreadable, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to strike him or not.

But she touched his cheek, and her fingers felt like moss on a forest floor. For a moment Neil let his head rest in the palm of her hand as she cupped his jaw, and she bent down, letting her leaf-colored lips rest against his forehead.

Then, pulling away, she moved through the doorway, past the smashed furniture and the stunned townsfolk, and was gone.


	21. Twenty One.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Riko,” Andrew said as Thea opened the door.

Neil dropped the saber. It made an echoing clang, the silence amplifying the metal against the wood floor. The sitting room was a disaster, with everything smashed and torn apart, with dirt and leaves scattered throughout the room. A woman was moaning from one of the corners. Someone else was weeping, sobs that no longer sounded forced causing her body to shake. 

Andrew sat at the base of the stairs, cradling an unconscious Aaron in his arms. Mr. Browning, who had seemed to recover enough to make his way to the hallway, started toward them, mentioning something about checking the boy’s pulse.

“Get away from us,” Andrew snarled, his teeth bared and his eyes flashing. Neil watched, silent, as Mr. Browning backed off. Thea spoke up from her place beside Kevin.

“We need her blood,” she said, and Neil turned toward her. “It’s the only thing that will wake these people up. We need her blood.”

“Then I’ll fucking kill her myself,” Andrew said. There was something in his voice that Neil had only heard a handful of times. It was his fierce loyalty to protecting what he had deemed his. Neil understood the feeling.

“Let’s go, then,” Kevin said, standing. “We’re all looking for the same thing now, and we don’t have much time to find it.”

“Nathaniel,” Thea said beside him, and his heart dropped through the floor at the name. “You fought well.”

Instinct had forced him to move in a way that he hadn’t even realized that he could, as long as he didn’t think about it too hard. As soon as he began thinking more in-depth about what his next move would be, about how to hold his sword or what angle to take, he would falter. Fear had been a good autopilot for him, but now that it was gone, he had no idea how he would be able to do it again.

Andrew stood up, passing Aaron on to his father and moving toward the door. All around them, townsfolk were standing, too, or coming out of other rooms they had hidden in. They fled from the house, to their cars, down the street, away away away.

“Fine,” Andrew said. “Let’s go.”

As they made their way out onto the lawn, Neil turned to look at the ruined house. He wondered how the townsfolk would explain this. He wondered if the people of Palmetto would have to confront the bargain they’d made while living here. Would they be okay knowing that not all fae were content to sip milk from chipped bowls or take offerings of small scraps of food? Would they be okay knowing that some wanted blood?

“Are you okay to ride in the car again?” Kevin was asking Thea, bringing Neil back to the task at hand. Thea sighed dramatically.

“In your car?” She asked. “I suppose if I must, then I must. Let’s get this over with.”

She slipped into the passenger seat as Kevin got in to drive. Andrew and Neil slipped into the back seat together. Neil reached out and squeezed Andrew’s hand once. Andrew didn’t look at him, but Neil felt him squeeze his hand in return.

-+-

They ended up back at Neil and Kevin’s, sitting in the kitchen together as they dressed wounds and searched for pieces that they could possibly put together. Kevin had thought that he’d heard the name Ainsel before, so he went to look through some of the books in the den to see if he could find the word in one of their indexes. Thea went out to the shed to collect anything that could be used as a weapon. Right now, they were defenseless.

This left Andrew and Neil alone in the kitchen, sitting at the round wooden table in the middle of the room. Andrew stared down as the mug of tea that Kevin had made him, his face blank. Neil looked down at his own bandaged hands, silent.

Finally, he spoke.

“It’s not your fault.”

Andrew didn’t move, so Neil continued.

“There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done. She was on another level, Andrew. You would have died. I’m amazed that I didn’t.”

Andrew’s eyes flitted up from his mug, locking with Neil’s for a minute.

“I could have stopped him,” he said. “I could have kept him with me. I could have stopped him from doing something so stupid.”

“You know you couldn’t have,” Neil said softly. “He would have found a way around you. You can’t protect everyone, Andrew.”

Suddenly, Andrew moved. It was so fast that Neil could barely follow the movement as he stood, letting out a shout of anger and throwing the mug of tea at the kitchen cabinets across the room. The mug shattered, tea covering the counter and the floor where it fell. He slammed his hand on the table once and then sat down, hard.

“What else am I good for?” he asked, bitter, spitting the words out between them. “I wasn’t given to them as a gift. I wasn’t asked into the family. I was a replacement for Aaron. I was supposed to live Aaron’s life, without anyone knowing, not even myself.”

His eyes flashed obsidian, and he pressed the heels of his hands in his eye sockets as if to cover it up.

“I’m a fucking changeling, Neil,” he said. “I’m not something that anyone wants. I’m not something that anyone wishes for. I’m something that people are afraid of, something that people hate, something that people want to kill or hurt or get rid of.”

He let one of his hands fall onto the table limply. He looked tired, and Neil watched him without speaking.

“I’m exactly what everyone says I am,” he said. “I’m a monster. And I couldn’t prove otherwise when it mattered. I couldn’t protect him when he needed it.”

Neil stood up from the table, letting his chair squeak across the tiled floor. He made his way to one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out a towel and using it to collect the shards of ceramic that littered the counter and floor. Once that was finished, he tossed them in the trash, going back to clean the spilled tea.

He finished that too, walking back to the table and sitting down across from Andrew, who watched him with dark circles beneath his eyes. He folded his arms on the table, letting his chin rest in the hollow where they crossed. Andrew mimicked his pose, letting out a deep breath.

“It’s always been an elaborate game of pretend,” he said softly. “Pretend you’re human. Pretend no one thinks it’s weird when Bee calls the relatives and tries to explain how she actually had twins, but one was really sick and that’s why she didn’t actually tell anyone about him. Pretend everyone believes her. Pretend that her husband doesn’t think that it’s strange that I exist at all. Pretend no one in town stares. Pretend that I haven’t been sneaking off into the woods all these years. Pretend I can’t do magic. It’s like my life has always been a powder keg just waiting for a match.”

“Well, hello match,” Neil said, smiling, though he could still feel the sting of the words. Andrew scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re more like a flamethrower,” he said, and Neil barked out a laugh.

“The next time someone says you’re soulless, I’m going to have to fight them,” he said simply, and Andrew stared at Neil with a look of disbelief that turned into annoyance.

“I hate you,” he said, and Neil smiled, small and soft.

“I know,” he said. “Let’s go lay down while Kevin searches. You look exhausted.”

Andrew only nodded, and they moved to the living room, Andrew taking one couch and Neil taking the other.

-+-

Neil was woken up by an excited Kevin standing over him, shaking his shoulders and speaking so quickly that Neil hardly caught a word.

“-it! I got it. I found it, and it was right here the whole time! I’m a genius. You should be more appreciative of my talents. Neil,” he said, flicking him in the forehead hard enough to make Neil swing a fist at his face. He stepped back, dodging easily, though he was smiling triumphantly as he did. “I found it.”

“Found what?” Neil asked, still half-asleep, rubbing at his eyes. He spotted Andrew across from him on the second couch, sitting up grumpily, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

“Ainsel,” Kevin said, and Neil was immediately awake. “By the way, Neil, this was in your room.”

He recognized the book Kevin held with alarm. It was the Folklore of England book, the one he’d found in the trunk beneath his bed. Had he not understood its significance?

Kevin flipped it open. “There’s this story from Northumberland. HIs mother tells him that if he stays up, the faeries will come and take him away. He doesn’t believe her, so he keeps playing anyway as the hearth fire burns down. In time, a faerie does show up, a pretty little faerie kid that wants to play with him. The boy asks for her name, and she says “Ainsel.” Then she asks the boy’s name and he says “ _ my _ ainsel” with a grin.

“So they play a little more, and the boy tries to get the fire going. He stokes it, but one of the dying embers rolls out and burns the faerie child’s toe. She howls like crazy, and this huge, giant, scary faerie mother barrels down the chimney. The boy hops into bed, but he can still hear the mother demanding her child name the one who burned her. ‘My ainsel! My ainsel!’ the faerie girl howls. Apparently, ‘my ainsel’ is what ‘my own self’ sounds like when said in a Northumbrian accent, so hearing that, the faerie mother becomes very stern. ‘Well then,’ she says, grabbing the faerie child by the ear and dragging her up the chimney, ‘you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.’ And that’s the whole story. Ainsel. My ainsel. My own self.”

Kevin looked at Neil expectantly.

“But what does that mean?” Thea asked.

_ Myself. My own self. _

“Give me a pen,” Neil said, his voice trembling only slightly. He opened the book to a blank page in the back.

Kevin got a sharpie out of a kitchen drawer and handed it to him. “What?” He asked. Neil ignored him.

Taking the marker in his right hand, he wrote out  _ half of your life to pay your debts. _ Then, switching hands, he wrote the same words with his left.

It was the same handwriting he’d seen on the walnut messages, the same writing that had written those names on his wall. For a long moment, Neil stared at the page in front of him. The name on the wall wasn’t a name of a conspirator or an enemy. Both names were his own.

There was no one else.

No one pulling strings, no one leaving clues, no one guiding his hand. Just himself, discovering the way to open the casket, figuring out the value of the sword he had, realizing what Tetsuji had wanted to do with Sorrow, and trying to stop it.

_ My Ainsel. My own self. _

A coded message, because Tetsuji had forbidden him from revealing the nature of their bargain to his daylight self. So all he could do was leave desperate riddles and hints.

The night he had freed Thea must have taken him longer than he had expected it would. That was why he had come home covered in mud, with glass in his hands, with only enough time to scribble out a few names on his wall and circling some things in a fairytale book before he’d had to crawl back into bed, his head hitting his pillow and switching him back to Neil.

But then Neil had spent the next night at the revel, giving him no time to retrieve the sword, no time for an alternate plan, no time to leave himself any more clues or hints or anything else.

What a mess he had made.

“Someone’s outside,” Thea said suddenly, looking out the window with a grim expression on her face.

Neil went to the window, watching the figures outside circling the house. Knights on faerie steeds, with Riko behind them in a set of black armor, with red accents on the chest plate that was made to look like dripping blood. He swung down from his horse, striding toward the house.

“Riko,” Andrew said as Thea opened the door.

Riko stopped at the edge of the front porch as if waiting for an invitation inside. He regarded Thea with a cold smile.

“I thought I might find you here,” he said.

Thea nodded, the bare hints of politeness in the action. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” she asked. “Those are the king’s guards with you, and as you know, I am not in good favor with the king.”

“I am here to bring you back, of course,” Riko said, smiling. “Why else would I come to this wretched place?”

“The two days and two nights that Nathaniel was promised have not ended yet,” Thea said coldly. “You have no grounds.”

“Ah.” Riko’s smile grew. “But this is the most interesting part. Nathaniel’s bargain was made on the premise that he give you no warning, and hat he bring you back as soon as he found you. Well,” Riko fanned his arms out, as if gesturing to something that no one else could see, “this looks like plenty of warning to me. In fact, I would say this even looks like a conspiracy against the king, which is treason.”

He paused for a moment, as if for dramatic effect. “Also, I have heard that you fought Sorrow. This is unacceptable, Thea, and you know this. Come with me now, and this does not need to be made difficult.”

Thea smiled down at Riko, the muscles in her arms flexing. “I have beaten you once, my Prince,” she said. Riko’s smile faltered. “Shall I attempt a second time?”

Riko’s eyes grew dark, and his smile faded.

“Very well,” he said. “If you would like to make this harder than it needs to be, then so be it.”

Neil had to do something, but he could only think of one possible move. He thought about the story Allison told him, about Andrew making the boys that had bullied him fight themselves. He thought of Andrew making it so that he could not cry.

“Andrew,” he said, panicked, “can you make me sleep?”

Andrew stared at him, not understanding.

“ _ Can you make me sleep?” _ Neil asked again, almost shouting. “Like a spell -- like what you did when Sorrow came. It’s still night. If I go to sleep and wake up, I’ll be him. I’ll be Nathaniel. He’ll tell you everything.”

They all stared at him with blank expressions. Riko had become to grow impatient, and Neil knew he couldn’t say anymore with him there.

“What if Nathaniel isn’t entirely on our side?” Kevin asked. “At least Neil will fight for us.”

Andrew watched Neil closely before squaring his shoulders.

“Neil is always on our side,” he said. “No matter what name he goes by. Neil is Neil.”

Neil thought he would give the command then, but instead, he grabbed Neil by the back of the neck and kissed him. It was soft and deliberate, and when he finished, he pressed his forehead to Neil’s, his hand still gripping the back of his neck.

“Stay,” he said. “Stay, even as Nathaniel. Promise me.”

“I do,” Neil said, and Andrew nodded once.

“Then sleep,” he said, and Neil did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gettin close~


	22. Twenty Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re in a lot of trouble,” Jean said under his breath. “Be careful.”

Between one blink and the next, Neil woke.

He was marching, along with several of Tetsuji’s knights, through a cave-like opening. Overhead, milky light filtered through the treetops, wind making the branches dance. Day had come.

They moved into the darkness of the hollow hill, full of roots above them, like pale waving arms, with thorned vines blooming with strange white flowers crawling up the walls. Blue-footed mushrooms lined their path.

Creaking along behind him, guarded by ten knights on each side, was a cage -- black metal twisted in the form of bent branches set on large, ornate wheels. It held Kevin, Thea, and Andrew. Kevin sat on the floor beside an angry Andrew, looking terrified but otherwise unhurt. Thea paced like a beast in a zoo, her rage radiating outward and seeming to suffocate Neil. Her cheek was slashed, and there was a dark stain at her midsection that even at this distance Neil could tell was blood.

His step faltered. Why was he free when they’d been captured? When they’d fought? What had he done?

Why hadn’t he fought with them?

Why wasn’t he in that cage?

“Sir Nathaniel?” A voice asked. He was still standing among Tetsuji’s knights, dressed like them. He was in the stiff doublet he’d found where his sword used to be, the one that was beside the book. Looking at the knight who had spoken, he realized that their outfits were mirror images of each other, although the knight had plates of shining black armor down one of his arms, an exaggeratingly large piece at his elbow, and a plate around his lower jaw. It was strange, menacing, and beautiful.

Jean, Neil remembered his name was, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew. He had been the knight at the revel.

And then Neil remembered that he wasn’t just standing near the knights, wasn’t just dressed like them. He  _ was _ one of them. That was why Jean had said his name in a concerned tone. He knew Neil -- knew Nathaniel, rather. He remembered Jean’s words from the revel:  _ He doesn’t mind coming with me. We’ve crossed swords before. _

“I’m fine,” Neil said, reaching for his belt automatically. But there was no sword there. Of course there wasn’t, he had hidden it.

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” Jean said under his breath. “Be careful.”

The procession halted in front of the throne of the Great King, where he waited alongside his courtiers. Beside him was a casket of black metal and crystal, this one even more intricate than the last. Beside it, standing with one hand on the glassy pane, stood a small wisened creature with a cloud of silver hair and a red doublet. He wore intricate jeweled bracers at his wrists and a pin attached to the cloth of his shirt with wings that moved in the wind, as though a gold and pearl moth with gemstone eyes could be alive. This must have been the blacksmith whose powers were so great that Tetsuji had stolen him away from the Eastern Court.

The blacksmith who, with his brothers, had made Heartsworn and Heartseeker.

Neil looked in the direction of where Andrew was, and caught his eye from where he sat in the corner of the cage. Andrew blinked once, twice, and then opened his palms and mimed looking down at them.

Confused, Neil did the same.

His heart dropped. On his right hand, written in black sharpie, were the words  _ carrots _ and  _ iron rods _ in the same scratchy handwriting of all the other messages he’d received. And on his left were the words  _ remember to kneel _ , written in his own hand.

The first two clues were a reference to the story about the farmer and the boggart, the one he thought hadn’t made any sense. Those were the same words that had been circled in mud, but he had no more understood the clue now than he had then.

And the third clue? A reminder about etiquette?

“Nathaniel,” Tetsuji said suddenly. “The sun has risen, and you are no longer my marionette.”

“I suppose you should call me Neil, then,” he said, trying to fight down panic.

“If you prefer,” Tetsuji said, smiling. “By whichever name you are called, you are still mine. And you would not do well to forget it, Nathaniel. Come forward and kneel before me.”

He knelt, feeling the cold of the stone seep into the strange, almost metallic pants that he wore.

_ Remember to kneel. _

“Look at me,” Tetsuji said, and Neil did.

He took in the poison green of his eyes and the long, raven-feather cape he wore, each feather the glimmering blue-black of an oil slick. He was ruinously beautiful the way that knives and scalpels could be beautiful, and staring at him made it impossible to ignore. He was a fairy tale king, radiant and terrible. A part of him wanted to serve him, wanted to be on his Perfect Court, and the longer he looked, the stronger that feeling became.

He forced himself to look away from him, taking in the color of his shoes instead.

“Imagine my surprise,” Tetsuji said, “to find Thea hiding in your house. Not only have you failed your task, Nathaniel, but you have squandered my goodwill.”

Neil couldn’t help himself.

“It’s not as though you had much to begin with.”

Tetsuji clicked his tongue, his eyes flashing. “So you will not deny it, then, you little sneak? Will you pretend that you intended to betray her? Will you claim that you are still my loyal servant?”

Neil felt himself smile, against his better judgment.

“I have never said that I was.”

Tetsuji sneered, anger flashing across his face like an oncoming sword.

“Where is Heartsworn?” He asked, the patience in his voice running thin.

Neil shrugged. “Maybe ask the members of your Court.”

Tetsuji frowned. “And why do you believe I should do that?”

“Because who else could have it?” Neil asked. “That’s the only way that the casket could have been broken. It was the only way that Thea could have been freed.”

The King leaned forward on his throne. “And who told you that?”

This part was easy. “Thea,” Neil said. “It wasn’t too hard to piece together.”

Tetsuji leaned back, signaling for the cage to be brought closer to him. He studied Thea with an odd possessiveness, gazing at her in a way that one might look at a particularly valuable painting put away into storage because it had acquired a scratch. A painting that you no longer wished to hang where you could see it, but neither were you willing to part with it.

Thea stared back, eyes hungry. Kevin had stepped back, closer to Andrew. Neil wondered what he was thinking.

“Who freed you?” Tetsuji asked Thea. “Tell me where the sword is and I will forgive you. You may rejoin my Court, just as it was always supposed to be. I have the means to take m revenge on the Eastern Court. With Sorrow under my control and the twin swords back in my possession, nothing stands in my way.

“Let us destroy Palmetto, destroy all of those who have gawked at you for all these long years as you slept. I will show you the might of Sorrow brought to harness. You will see how easily we can take back the Eastern Court, wrest the throne from Ichirou, who is mourning the recent loss of his father. It will be simple to strike when he is so unprepared.”

Thea smiled, twisted and dark.

“Who was the one who put me in that casket to be gawked at, My Lord?” She asked, and Tetsuji’s expression darkened. “Who was the one who stole me from the Eastern Court, where I could have grown to my full potential with my mother by my side. Who is the one who knows the truth about Sorrow? The truth that you have not even told her son?”

Tetsuji let out a growl of anger, lunging toward the cage, stopping inches from Thea’s face. Thea didn’t flinch, her smile growing instead.

“Why don’t you tell him, my Lord?” She asked.  _ My Lord _ dripped off of her tongue like patronizing honey. “Or are you afraid that your favorite toy won’t wish to play for you anymore?”

Tetsuji’s gaze fell to the hoodie Thea was wearing. It was one of Kevin’s, an old exy team that his father had coached, worn and old, the orange not nearly as bright as it had been. For a moment Neil thought that Tetsuji would grow violent, maybe even reach out and grab Thea by the front of the hoodie. But then his eyes flickered toward Kevin, and he smiled, leaning back and pacing his way back to his throne. Neil’s blood ran cold.

“Bring me the mortal,” he instructed one of his servants, a small creature in red armor with a tail that whipped behind him. “Bring me the Bone Maiden, as well, and all of her knives.”

Kevin shouted as a dozen knights gathered around the cage, shoving their swords between the branches to keep a panicking Thea and angry Andrew back as they unlocked the door and dragged Neil’s brother through it. Thea grabbed one of the knights through the bars, twisting his arm hard, nearly pulling him into the cage. The faerie screamed and Neil heard a sharp sound, like bone cracking.

Neil started toward them.

“Halt, Nathaniel,” Tetsuji said. “You will stay where you are, or I will have your father cut the boy’s throat.”

Neil stopped moving. Three knights pressed their blades to Kevin’s skin. He was breathing heavily, but no longer struggled. Two other knights grabbed Kevin, dragging him along the floor and dropping him at the bottom of the steps that lead to the throne. Beside Kevin stood Lola, her smokey form seeming to scatter every few seconds or so, like she was so excited that she could barely contain herself. She pressed a long nail to the stain on Kevin’s cheekbone, tilting his head back as if to inspect it under a better light.

“Now, you or Ms. Muldani will tell me where Heartsworn is. If you do not, the boy will suffer.” Tetsuji’s smile was horrible.

“Blessed and cursed, cursed and blessed,” Lola said, then took one of Kevin’s fingers and twisted it hard.

He screamed, artlessly and uncontrollably.

“Stop,” Neil shouted. If he had known where the sword was, truthfully, he might have told them. But it was impossible to think, impossible to puzzle everything through with Kevin screaming. He was glad for the knot that Andrew had tied into his hair. Without it, he may have just cried. “Stop,” he said, “or I will stop you.”

Tetsuji laughed. “Ah, yes, there it is. That’s the true nature of yours coming out. You are smart, Nathaniel. But you are also entirely helpless against forces that you cannot control.”

Lola bent a second finger. Kevin let out another scream.

Tetsuji had Heartseeker by his side, sheathed and leaning against his throne. Could Neil get another weapon and slit his throat before Tetsuji could draw it? Neil thought it may be unlikely, but he spotted the set of knives on Lola’s hip, and he wondered. He counted how many steps it would take to get to the throne. He calculated how fast he would need to be to get to Tetsuji before he could get to him. HIs fingers twitched.

He had to do something.

“One cannot heal a musician’s fingers without breaking them,” Tetsuji said. “The human is in pain, but his suffering may be a boon to him. If you both continue to refuse me, I will do far worse to him. There are some torments so terrible that they change a person forever. There are some torments that are so terrible that minds refuse to withstand them. You had best tell me what you know and  you had best tell me now.”

“Leave him alone,” Thea cried out. “Your grievance is with me! Leave him!”

Neil had to do something. He had to stop Kevin from being hurt.

“Me,” he said. “I freed Thea. Me. So leave Kevin alone. It was me and me alone.”

“You?” Tetsuji said, standing, eyes blazing. “You, who came to our hawthorn tree and asked for our help? Was it not you who gave up half of your life voluntarily, gladly even?” I could have taken those years any way I wished, but I wasn’t cruel. Instead, I gave you not just what you asked for, but all the things you never dared ask. When you came to me, you were a child, eleven years old, and we stole you from your bed to fly through the skies on sashes and ragwort. We trained you to swing a blade and to take a blow. We taught you to ride on our swift-footed steeds like you were Tam Lin himself. Some part of you recalls it, recalls the wind in your hair and the howl of the night sky before you. Recalls the lessons in courtly manners. Recalls laughing when you rode down a girl from Palmetto on the highway, the footfalls of the other knights behind you, your horse outpacing their-”

“You’re wrong,” Neil said. “I didn’t do that.”

But they didn’t lie--  _ couldn’t _ lie, so some part of it was true. She thought of his dream, the one where he’d tormented a family and laughed as they were cursed to stone. How much had he been changed in this service? How much could he trust his other self?

“I made your wishes come true,” Tetsuji spread his arms wide in a gesture of acceptance, smiling. “And if our gifts have barbs, you know enough of our nature to expect that. And so, tell me, who told you how to free Thea? The real answer, now. Who gave you Heartsworn? And where is it now?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said, slightly panicked, because he  _ didn’t _ know, yet Tetsuji had no reason in the world to believe him.

He beckoned to the Bone Maiden, who advanced toward the throne, smoke billowing, drawing a thin and jagged blade. It looked as though there was dried rust or blood on the metal.

“Mortals are born liars,” said Tetsuji thoughtfully. “It’s the only thing your kind had any exceptional talent in.”

Neil swallowed and prepared himself. He let himself be afraid, let himself be afraid, because that was when he was most useful. He needed his instinct. He needed Nathaniel. He hoped he seemed stunned enough that Lola expected him to be passive, to allow himself to be tortured, to scream and cry and not fight back. And she did, flitting around him in rings of smoke as she slashed along his arms, lines parallel to each other up and down his forearms. And she burned him, too, with the tips of her fingers, causing small circles and rings in between the lines, like patterns that he knew would never fade.

And then she circled close to his face, and he let her knife run down his cheek, let her burn a spot next to his eye, let her laugh and smile and joke about how scared he was.

And then he went for the knife.

It scraped the skin of his arm again as he moved, hand closing on the blade. It cut his palm, but as he jerked it out of her hand he twisted it in his grip, using his other hand to hold the blade as he slammed it into Lola’s throat.

Her fingers scrambled for her neck, but her eyes were already dulling, the smoke and mist that surrounded her disappearing as if it were daybreak after a foggy night.

A knight grabbed hold of Kevin, twisting his arms behind him without regard for his fingers. Kevin howled in pain.

Three more knights circled Neil, wary of the knife in his hands. He crouched low, ready for them.

“No,” said Tetsuji lazily from his spot on the throne. He waved off the knights, a small smile on his face. Riko and the Butcher stood on either side of him, passive. “Let him keep it. For you see, Nathaniel, as long as I have Mr. Day here, it’s my hand that holds the knife.”

“It looks like your hand slipped,” Neil said, nodding at Lola’s body as it gave one final twitch and then was still. Neil was flushed with victory and violence. He felt like his most dangerous self, the self who had once walked through the forests of Palmetto and believed himself its defender. The Court had grown quiet. He had brought death to this place, to these deathless and ancient people, and they watched him with wide, puzzled eyes.

“Observe,” Tetsuji said, speaking as though he were giving a lesson to a small child. “Nathaniel, I want you to recite the rhyme to summon the creature at the heart of the forest. You know it, don’t you? Say the words.”

“Why should I?” Neil asked, spinning the knife in his hand.

Tetsuji smiled, wide and brilliant.

“Your mother has been searching for you, Nathaniel. Wouldn’t you like to see her again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((-:


	23. Twenty Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s a monster in our woods,” he said through shaking breaths. “She’ll get you if you’re not good. Drag you under leaves and sticks. Punish you for all your tricks. A nest of hair and well-gnawed bone. You are never, ever coming... Home.”

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who was sold to the fae.

Her family was poor, with plenty of mouths to feed, with many of her brothers and sisters resorting to having to steal food just to get some on the table.

And so, on the night before a full moon, the young woman’s father made the long walk through the forest to the old hawthorn tree.

He carried a scrap of fabric from one of his bedsheets, and he crossed over the stone circle and into the moonlight, waiting to bargain.

It wasn’t long before a creature came sliding from the forest. She was made nearly entirely of mist, phasing through the air like early morning fog. She floated toward him lazily, her smile as sharp as a butcher’s knife.

“Tie your ribbon to the tree,” she said, nearly singing. “Tell me your wish. I bargain on behalf of the Great King, and he will give you all that you desire.”

The man nodded, squaring his shoulders.

“I wish for my family to be well fed, and richer than we could hope to be.”

The creature hummed, lying on her back in the air so she looked at him upside down.

“And what are you willing to give in return?”

The man swallowed. “What is necessary.”

When the creature smiled, the man felt his heart nearly stop.

“Give us your oldest daughter, and you will never go hungry again.”

The man tied his ribbon to the tree, and the bargain was made.

-+-

Neil’s head was spinning.

“My mother?”

He turned to face Thea, his eyes wide, as if he were begging her to deny it. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, her head low. He couldn’t breathe.

“That’s not possible.”

“Do you truly believe you have the grounds to tell me what is not possible, Nathaniel?” Tetsuji asked. “Here I have made you a knight, here you see magicians and faeries and gifts beyond your imagination, yet you believe this is where the line of impossibility is drawn?” He looked amused. “You cannot pick and choose what is possible, child. You simply must accept it.”

-+-

When brought before the Great King, the young woman had nearly been sick with fear.

“Tell me your name,” the King said simply, and the woman bowed her head.

“Mary Hatford,” she told him, and she heard him hum in contemplation.

“Yes, you will do fine, I believe.” He turned to a man to his right, as if to gauge his opinion. “Though I’m not entirely sure, if I’m being honest. I’m not versed as well as I’d like to be on what humans are worth.”

“She looks strong,” the man said. His hair was the color of autumn leaves. “And I suppose if she is to be used as a trial anyway, then it will not matter if she lasts.”

Mary frowned.

“The woman is here,” she said, loud enough to capture their attention. “And she does not appreciate being spoken about as if she does not exist.”

“You will do well to hold your tongue,” the man with the autumn hair barked. “You are in the presence of your king.”

But Tetsuji only waved a hand, his eyes flashing.

“No,” he said. “She has the right to speak. We were being rude, and I apologize for the offense. Please, Mary, make yourself comfortable. I will have one of my servants show you to your room, and later we will discuss how you will be paying for your family’s debt.”

Mary nodded, still frowning, letting her eyes settle on the autumn haired man.

“I have told you my name,” she said. “I wish to know yours.”

The man was silent for a moment as if debating whether or not to say. And then he spoke.

“Nathan,” he said. “My name is Nathan.”

-+-

“My mother died,” Neil said. “She gave me away when I was young, saved me and then was murdered by your men. How can she be alive, as a forest spirit?”

“Your mother never  _ died _ , boy.” The Butcher spoke, suddenly, his face twisted in disgust. “Though I wish she had. I should have killed the wretch myself. No, she was captured in the forest and brought back here.”

“I thought about killing her, I will admit,” Tetsuji said. “We did attempt to torture her for information. But no matter what we did, she refused to tell us where you were. So we waited a few days, maybe a week, and told her that we’d found you.” He smiled, and Neil felt sick. “We told her that you’d died, that we killed you. It drove her mad.”

“She grew inconsolable,” Nathan said. “Refused to eat, refused to drink, begged us to kill her rather than let her live on. And one day we came to see her, and she had grown thorns.”

Riko laughed. “That was a sight. They traveled up and down her arms like scales. When anyone tried to touch her, they were stuck like a pincushion.”

“She changed a bit more every day,” Tetsuji said. “Perhaps after carrying you for so long, some of your faerie blood had transferred to her. It was just enough. She sprouted vines. Her skin grew into tree bark. Her hair became mossy and everything she touched turned to rot.”

“She spent her days crying,” Nathan said. “Soon she was a force that we could not control. She grew impossibly strong, and nothing could stop her as she escaped from her cell. She disappeared into the heart of the forest, and we let her be after that. She seemed content to rest, alone, and did not seek to harm anyone else.”

“It’s not like we could kill her anyway,” Riko said. “Not even if we tried.”

-+-

She thought that she just might die.

Mary was sure that pregnancy was hard. She did not doubt the strength of her mother, who had birthed six children and never complained. But Mary was different. Her child was half fae.

She wasn’t sure how the magic of her child would affect the pregnancy. None of them were -- not even the King’s wisest apothecaries, though Mary supposed that they were better versed in medicine than they were childbirth.

Nathan came to check on her often, though it was not as much for her wellbeing as it was for the child’s. Tetsuji demanded that this child be perfect, that he be worth enough to keep on the Court even after Mary was long gone. He had said that he wanted this child to be a test, a determination over whether or not it would be useful to have some of his stronger Folk of his Court mate with humans to throw into a war with the Eastern Court.

“They would be expendable,” he said, “because they would not be fully fae. It would keep my men in a safer position. Like an endless army without consequence.”

Mary had been sick at the thought, and even sicker at the idea that her child would be one of these people, one of the ones that were sent to their death strictly because they could be.

She had begun to plan their escape within months of finding out she was with child.

-+-

“Now,” Tetsuji said, leaning forward on his throne to rest his elbows on his knees. “Call her, Nathaniel. Say the words that will summon her to me, or we will slit Mr. Day’s throat.”

Kevin let out a choked sound, and Neil hesitated, realizing just how trapped they were.

“Fine,” he said, recalling the sing-song chant that girls in grade school used to sing on the playground as they skipped rope, never daring to finish the song for fear of the monster showing up and devouring them. 

“There’s a monster in our woods,” he said through shaking breaths. “She’ll get you if you’re not good. Drag you under leaves and sticks. Punish you for all your tricks. A nest of hair and well-gnawed bone. You are never, ever coming... Home.”

Neil could feel the ripples of magic cascade out of the hollow hill, and out into the woods. All was still.

-+-

Loneliness. Thoughtlessness. Heartbreak. Death.

Darkness. Sadness. An aching sense of loss.

Pain. Grief. Agony. Betrayal.

And then suddenly, a song.

Sorrow wept. Sorrow grew. Sorrow changed.

Sorrow thought. Sorrow felt. Sorrow sighed.

And then, a boy.

Young. Thin. Magic.

Brave. Strong. Hair like autumn leaves.

Eyes the deepest blue. A sense of recognition. A realization.

Acceptance. Understanding. Pride.

A sense of calm. A sense of peace.

-+-

Somewhere in the forest, Sorrow stirred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm hmm hmm.


	24. Twenty Four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No knight should die for want of a sword,” Jean said, a muscle moving in his jaw. It was not wise to lecture a king.
> 
> Tetsuji sneered. “And yet so many do.”

Tetsuji nodded down at Neil. “Very good. Now, let’s see what else you can do.”

“Would you like some circus tricks?” Neil asked, knowing he was only making things worse. “I think I could juggle for you if you find me some bowling pins.”

Tetsuji shook his head. “No, no. Let’s have you slash open your arm instead. Quickly, before your father slashes this human’s face instead.”

Neil pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, gritting his teeth as it slid over the slashes that Lola had made on his arm earlier. He chose an empty spot, raising the Bone Maiden’s crooked blade and pressing the tip to his skin. He held his breath, pressing down until the knife broke skin, until bright pain bloomed along his already throbbing arm, until a thin line of blood ran all the way down to his palm, spattering onto the stone beneath him.

The smile that cut across Tetsuji’s face was awful, and Neil mirrored it on his own face without shame.

“Neil, stop,” Kevin called out, managing to find his voice. “Don’t worry about me-”

“Enough!” Thea cried as well, gripping the cage until her knuckles were white. Andrew stood behind her, his eyes trained on Neil, his jaw locked and his eyes a deep obsidian. “He does not have Heartsworn. He doesn’t know where it is.”

“He’s a liar,” Tetsuji said evenly. Riko nodded behind him. “All mortals lie. It is what they are best at.”

Suddenly, Andrew spoke.

“It was me.”

All eyes turned toward him, the changeling standing calmly in the cage, the one who hadn’t said a word since they had arrived. His head was held high, his shoulders squared back. All around them, the courtiers fell quiet. He turned to face Tetsuji and bowed, deep and elaborate in a way that Neil had no idea he even knew how to do.

“I conspired to betray you. He was protecting me. Let him go and punish me instead.”

“Andrew?” Neil asked, frowning. His head was spinning and his breathing was labored. He wasn’t sure if it was from pain or from blood-loss, or from possibly both. For a single moment, he wondered if there was any truth to it, as if there were another secret that needed to be revealed. And then he saw the look Andrew flashed him, and the anger in his eyes.

He was buying him time. Enough time to attempt to puzzle through the clues he’d left himself.

 

_ Carrots. Iron rods. _

_ Remember to kneel. _

 

What did it mean? The human farmer had tricked the boggart by planting carrots underground. And the iron rods were buried as well.

Had he...?

“You?” Tetsuji asked. He studied Andrew through narrow eyes, standing from his throne and making his way toward the cage. “The boy who plays at being human? What possible reason could you have to stand against me?”

 

_ Remember to kneel. _

 

“What does it matter why?” Andrew asked, and there was something in his expression. It was as though he was daring Tetsuji to press him further.

“You presume much, changeling child.” Tetsuji’s eyebrows rose. “But worry not. Sorrow will be here soon, and will welcome your death gladly. All she knows is pain and death and grief, and you will soon know it as well.”

Andrew smiled his sharp smile, stepping forward to grip the bars of the cage in white-knuckled fingers.

“You presume much, yourself.” His voice was low and scratchy, a tone that Neil had never heard creeping into his words. “But you will be unable to think at all after I have cut off your head.”

Tetsuji laughed, low and dark, turning to walk back to his throne without a second glance in Andrew’s direction.

“Bring him to me,” he said simply, and his guards began to move.

Panicking, Neil realized that he had a very limited amount of time before Andrew would be kneeling beside Kevin. He doubted that they would start with his fingers.

 

_ Carrots. Iron rods. _

_ Remember to kneel. _

 

And then the answer struck him.

He knew where he had hidden the sword.

Heartsworn, a blade that could cut through anything. A blade so sharp that it could be sheathed into stone itself. And that’s where he must have hidden it, just as he’d found it, buried in the mud and the dirt beside Fox Lake. Tetsuji would no more look for it paving the ground of his throne room than he would look for it among the clouds.

 

_ Remember to kneel _ .

 

HIs gaze dropped to the throne room floor, looking for any shine in the dirt between the massive stone tiles. He spotted what could be a shimmer, but could also have been a trick of the light. He only had one shot to find it.

Three knights in striking black armor opened the door of the cage, intending to pull Andrew out. But as the door swung wide, Thea ducked down, rolling under the swords that were pushed through the bars to hold her back. She’d been anticipating them this time, and she had moved fast. Fast enough that by the time they had pulled their swords out to face her, she was already up and straightening out.

Wounded from whatever fight had taken place earlier, she wore the ripped and bloodstained remains of a shirt wrapped around her waist -- it was Kevin’s undershirt, he realized.

The knights that had been surrounding Neil ran toward her, and he seized his chance. He crossed the floor quickly to where he thought he had seen the glimmer of the hilt.

And then, despite himself, he looked toward the cage.

The knights had surrounded her, none of them bold enough to attack. She turned toward Jean, who stood across from her, and spoke.

“Give me your sword,” she said. She was strikingly beautiful, powerful enough to send a few of the knights backward a few steps, putting distance between them. She didn’t flinch, merely held out a hand toward Jean, and repeated herself. “Give me your sword. Let me die with a blade in my hand. I do not want to fight you, Jean, or any of you. Only him. And the king has Heartseeker, so he should hardly lose. You cannot fear for him. He will fight me, because I cannot win.”

Tetsuji stood, drawing Heartseeker from his sheath with a scrape of metal on metal. He could not lose with the enchanted blade in his hand, but no one would delight in his winning.

“Take it,” Jean said, and placed his sword in Thea’s hand.

“I did not give you permission to arm her,” Tetsuji said.

“No knight should die for want of a sword,” Jean said, a muscle moving in his jaw. It was not wise to lecture a king.

Tetsuji sneered. “And yet so many do.”

But even with a faerie-wrought blade, Thea would die. Even if she were the best swordsman in the world, she would die. No skill could guard against a sword that would never miss. If Neil couldn’t get her Heartsworn, she was doomed.

He spotted what he thought might be the shine of the hilt and dropped to his knees. Fingers sliding over it, he attempted to get a grip, but it slipped from his hands. No one had noticed her yet, crouched in the corner of the throne room, but they would soon, surely. He needed to move quickly.

On the other side of the floor, Thea and Tetsuji circled each other. Heartseeker darted out toward Thea’s shoulder. She tried to block the blow, but the other blade was too fast. It sank into her arm, making her cry out. Her grip on her own sword wavered. Metal rang against metal in a fury of blows, but Thea couldn’t block swiftly enough. Over and over, Heartseeker cut into her. Already wounded, she quickly became a mess of small cuts, bleeding quickly and freely.

And yet, Neil could tell that Tetsuji was becoming frustrated. Thea was clearly the better swordsman. Tetsuji, on the other hand, was constantly thrown off balance by his own sword as it jerked him into the position it needed to strike. He dealt sloppy blows that went wide and then searched to correct themselves. And Thea continued on, relentlessly parrying, ferociously striking, even when there was no hope of winning. The Great King may be able to kill her, but he would not be able to break her.

“As amusing as this is,” Tetsuji said, slightly out of breath, “it cannot continue. Subside. Sorrow is coming, and she will rip you limb from limb if I don’t cut your throat first. Either way, this time when you lie in that coffin, you will truly be dead, dead and on display for the rest of the forest to see.”

Thea slashed her blade at Tetsuji’s side and hit, slicing through the fabric to show a thin line of blood. Tetsuji looked at Thea as if seeing her for the first time.

“Heartseeker means that  _ you _ never miss, My Lord,” she said, circling again, a smile playing at her lips. “It does not mean that I always miss you.”

Tetsuji roared forward, heedless of form. Brutally, he thrust his blade into Thea’s gut. She howled and fell to her knees, hand pressed to her stomach. Tetsuji had stabbed her where she was already wounded.

But as he stepped back, his hand went to his own arm. It was bleeding freely, the red wash of blood covering his arm like a glove. He’d struck Thea, but she had dealt him another blow in return.

“Enough,” he shouted, breathing hard, pointing at his knights. “Finish her.”

They stood rigidly, as if they hadn’t heard the command. They might be cruel and capricious, might care nothing for humans, but they were still knights. They were still like the ones that Neil had read about in storybooks when he was little. Wheat the King was asking for was against their code of honor. They did not swarm a wounded man or woman, certainly one who had not been beaten in any kind of a fair fight.

Tetsuji turned to Riko instead.

“You will finish her,” he said, and Riko began to step forward.

Andrew stepped forward as well, blocking his path.

“You will do no such thing,” he said, unsheathing a knife from beneath his black armbands. Riko’s face twisted into a grimace.

“I will kill her as soon as I am finished with you.”

Andrew grinned, dangerous and dark.

“Did you not hear what I just said? You will do. No. Such. Thing.”

Riko let out a roar of anger, rushing at Andrew with his sword drawn. Andrew let out a laugh, ducking low and rushing Riko in return.

It was, by no means, what should have been a fair fight. Riko was a swordsman trained from birth, one of the top commanders of Tetsuji’s army and a strong fighter to boot. He was a killer who relished in his victories. Andrew should have never stood a chance.

But Andrew was never one to fight fair.

He was scrappy, an angry kid who sparred with an acquaintance at least twice a week. He was someone who had gone headfirst into unfair fights his whole life, who knew how to handle a knife as well as he could handle a pen, who wasn’t afraid to draw blood when necessary.

He ducked Riko’s first swing, ducking in close to him and slashing at his legs.

Riko was unprepared, expecting to have the advantage of distance with his sword. He was used to a certain etiquette that was nearly mandatory when sword fighting.

He was not prepared for Andrew Dobson.

He staggered backward, his momentum thrown off, and Andrew used this as an opportunity to land two blows to his solar plexus. Riko doubled over, the breath knocked out of him, and Andrew gripped the back of his head, smashing Riko’s face into his knee.

Blood poured from Riko’s nose like a faucet, and he howled in pain as he fell to the floor. Andrew crouched over him, giving him a two finger salute.

“Better luck next time,” he said, his eyes flashing from obsidian to gold.

The fight was over as quickly as it had begun.

Tetsuji let out a cry of anger, turning back on Thea, who was laughing wildly.

He started toward her just as Neil caught hold of the edge of the sword. He pushed his fingers deeper into the ground, as deep as they would go, hooking his nail beneath the metal and insinuating his fingers until he could grip it. Carefully he pulled the sword up, up, up from the stone that he’d buried it in, up until it was in his hand where it belonged.

His sword, the golden blade gleaming. The one he’d worn on his back so many years ago. The one that had made him a knight.

Heartsworn.

Hardly believing what he’d done, he took several steps toward Thea before he realized that he was too late. She was bleeding too freely from too many wounds. As Tetsuji made his way toward her, Thea stumbled. She was barely on her feet. She couldn’t wield a blade and win against Tetsuji, much less Sorrow once she arrived.

He had failed. He was too late.

“Kevin,” Thea called out, falling to her knees and gripping at the wound at her stomach with one hand. “Kevin Day. My dear, my darling Kevin Day.”

“What?” Kevin called back from where he stood, the Butcher behind him, Andrew on his way up the steps as if to retrieve him. His gaze flickered between Thea and Neil, as though he weren’t sure who he feared for more.

“I love you,” Thea said, looking up, looking at nothing at all, her face exultant. “I love you like in the storybooks. I love you like in the ballads. I love you like a lightning bolt. I’ve loved you from the moment you sent me that message so many years ago. I loved that you made me want to laugh. I loved that you were kind and the way you would pause when you spoke to me as I slept, as though you were waiting for me to answer you. I love you and I will always love you, and I am mocking no one when I kiss you, no one at all.”

Kevin tried to move toward her, his arm outstretched as if to grab her, but Nathan’s hand on his shoulder held him back. “You’re insane,” he shouted, and Thea let out a magnificent laugh.

Neil crossed the floor in front of the throne. He wasn’t sure if the other knights noticed what he held in his hand, or if they weren’t paying him much attention. Tetsuji, though, turned, catching sight of Neil across the room. His voice took on a tone of amusement.

“What are you thinking, little knight?” he asked. “Do you even remember how to hold a sword? Do you think you’re being honorable? She won’t be able to save you.”

“No,” Neil said. “Tonight, it’s my turn to save her.”

Tetsuji laughed, taking three large strides across the room before he swung at Neil. He’d had time to think about this, though, and he didn’t bother aiming at Tetsuji. He aimed for his sword instead, and swung with all of his might.

Heartsworn cut the blade of Heartseeker in half with a terrible crack, like that of shattering glass. Tetsuji froze, staring at him as if he couldn’t believe what Neil had done.

And then his gaze moved upward, toward something he couldn’t see, and he managed to smile. HIs expression froze Neil in his place, filling him with fresh dread.

Sorrow had come, this time for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep leaving all of my cliffhangers on Sorrow showing up but like dang man she's just too good. love her.
> 
> Last time I do this tho I promise.
> 
> Also, I know that Andrew's fight with Riko was super short but I just wanted that little shit to be kneed in the face as quickly as possible. Fuck that guy.
> 
> Also also I took Thea's love confession almost word for word from the book because the confession gave me warm and fuzzy feelings and there was no way I could just... not do that.
> 
> Whew.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> We're almost there.


	25. Twenty Five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil knew what it was like to lose. He knew it so well that it had long since washed the taste of winning from his tongue, so that he wasn’t even sure he even remembered the savor of it.
> 
> He might be about to lose again.

Courtiers had their hands pressed against their mouths, smothering small shrieks. Behind him, Neil could hear the heavy thuds of Sorrow’s steps. He could hear the shiver of her branches. He could hear his mother. He shuddered, taking a deep breath.

He pressed the edge of Heartsworn against Tetsuji’s throat. IT nicked his skin, blood beading like a single garnet where the point touched him.

“She’s coming closer, ever closer,” Tetsuji said, swallowing, holding out the broken blade in one hand, as though in surrender, as though he meant to drop it. Neil was sure he wouldn’t though. 

“If you turn, you’ll have a chance,” Tetsuji said. He was smiling, confident, victorious. “All you have to do is turn. You have the sword. But if you don’t strike now, you’ll be hers. She’ll make you cough up dirt and vines, make you sleep in a bed of her own tears.”

Neil knew what it was like to lose. He knew it so well that it had long since washed the taste of winning from his tongue, so that he wasn’t even sure he even remembered the savor of it.

He might be about to lose again.

He thought of the creature that he had heard about in stories. He thought about the creature that he had seen in Eden’s, of the creature he’d seen in Andrew’s house. He thought of the strange, shambling beauty of her. He thought of the way that Kevin had sung to her and the way that she had cradled Neil’s face in her hands.

He thought about his mother, and knew that he was safe.

He pressed the tip of his blade harder against Tetsuji’s throat, eyeing the blood that now flowed heavily from the wound. He tilted his head to the side, as if in thought.

“I was told something, once,” he said, and Tetsuji’s eyes grew wide at the casual tone of his voice. “I was told that faerie blades can cut through skin as though they were cutting through water. I was told that it took very little effort.”

He leaned down, leveling his face with the Great King’s. He could see his father’s smile reflected in Tetsuji’s eyes.

No.

It was his own smile, wide and terrifying.

He lowered his voice to nearly a whisper.

“Tell me, My Lord, do you think that a sword that could cut through anything will take as little effort as any other?” He crouched low, allowing the blade to slice along Tetsuji’s neck, resting on his shoulder. “Or do you think it might be so easy, that I won’t even feel it slice at all?”

“You wouldn’t-” Tetsuji began, but Neil cut him off, placing a finger to his own lips in a gesture for silence.

“For my mother,” he said, “I will.”

He was right.

It took him no effort at all.

Tetsuji’s body fell limp onto the stone floor of the throne room. The courtiers were silent, staring with wide eyes at the body of their king before them. Neil stood, turning to face his mother behind him.

She towered above him, staring down at him with her hollowed eyes. Only this time there was something behind them, a recognition that hadn’t been there the last time he had seen her. She was awake, alive, overgrown with emotions that she had been lost to for so long.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said softly, his voice trembling. Mary reached out, brushing her fingers along Neil’s cheek in a show of understanding.

There was a roar of anger from across the throne room. Neil’s head whipped around, some of the branches on his mother’s hand cutting his face in the process.

Nathan stood in front of the throne, Kevin completely forgotten as he ran from where he had been kept moments before. Nathan unsheathed his own sword, striding across the room as quickly as possible. Neil moved to stand in front of Mary, arms out, in a show of protection. He still had Heartsworn. He could win, right?

But before Nathan could reach him, he was stopped. Mary’s arms were outstretched behind Neil, the twigs and branches growing to grasp at Nathan, pulling him off of the ground to reach her eye-level. Nathan howled, cursing and screaming and threatening her until he was nearly blue in the face. Mary stood, unmoving, holding him until his body went slack, his sword sliding from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud clang. She dropped him, his body crumpling beside it.

Neil bent down to take what was left of Heartseeker and Nathan’s sword. But as his hand closed on the hilt, Nathan’s eyes opened, and he reached for him. The pad of his finger ran down his cheek and he rasped out words from a mouth painted with blood.

“Remember, Nathaniel,” he said. “It is my gift to you, as your father. Remember, disloyal child. I curse you to remember. I curse you to remember everything.”

“No,” Neil said, shaking his head back and forth and stumbling out of Nathan’s grasp. “No, I don’t want to. I won’t!”

But Nathan was already dead, his eyes wide and unblinking, his mouth frozen forever in a wicked smile that mirrored Neil’s perfectly. He was dead, Tetsuji was dead, Riko was captured, they had won.

But Neil continued to scream.


	26. Twenty Six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil remembered everything at once. All of the locks had come undone, all of the doors flying open, all of the memories rising from the deep, dark place that he had buried them, all of himself crashing into himself.
> 
> He got back every memory that he had tried to lock away.

Once, there was a boy who found a sword in the woods.

Once, there was a boy who made a bargain with the Folk.

Once, there was a boy who had been a knight in the service of a monster.

Once, there was a boy who vowed he would save everyone in the world, but forgot himself.

Once, there was a boy...

-+-

Neil remembered everything at once. All of the locks had come undone, all of the doors flying open, all of the memories rising from the deep, dark place that he had buried them, all of himself crashing into himself.

He got back every memory that he had tried to lock away.

-+-

He remembered one night, slinking home through the woods after being in the King’s service, a shudder never quite leaving his shoulders. He had ridden out with the Folk and pretended to laugh as they tormented humans, laughed along with their cruelty along with all else they taught him.

_ Let us curse them to be rocks until a human recognizes their true nature. _

He knew that he was their best hope of breaking the curse. Lying alone in his bed in the moments before dawn, waiting for his memories to wash out like a tide, he went over his riddle. All he had to do was go to the grove where they were and their true nature would be recognized.

The only problem being that he wouldn’t recognize them.

At least, not Neil. Nathaniel was the one who knew them, the one who had cursed them.

For a moment he imagined leaving a note for Kevin. Maybe if he worded it right, he could break the spell. But no matter how he worded it, it would probably just say the wrong thing to Neil -- someone that he wasn’t sure he trusted.

Neil was himself, but with all of the sharp edges blunted. Neil didn’t know what it was like to ride with the Folk on sleek faerie horses. He didn’t remember swinging a silver sword with such force that the air itself seemed to sing. He didn’t know what it was like to outwit and be outwitted. He hadn’t seen the wild and grotesque things that Nathaniel had seen. He hadn’t told the many, many lies.

Neil needed to be preserved and protected. There would be no help there.

And so he thought of a plan. The terms were simple.  _ Every night, from the moment you fall into a slumber until your head touches your pillow again near dawn, you’re mine, _ Tetsuji had said.

The way he went around this was simple. He put his head down on the pillow but didn’t allow himself to sleep. Instead, he got back up again -- and stayed Nathaniel until dawn broke on the horizon and his memories fled with the dark.

Some nights, he was able to steal almost an hour. Others, only moments. But it allowed him to break curses and undo damage.

And, in time, it allowed him to think of a full plan.

He knew what Tetsuji planned to do with Sorrow. He flaunted Palmetto’s destruction before him, boasted about his plans for conquest and revenge on the Eastern Court. Just as he let it slip details he hadn’t thought mattered, about his lost sword and the means of releasing Thea. Nathaniel had realized the value of the sword that he had found all those years ago. Slowly, he had come to see that he was the only one with the means to stop the King.

_ I may be stuck in his service _ , Nathaniel had thought,  _ but if I free Thea, she could defeat the King. She isn’t bound to any promises. She’s got enough vengeance in her for the both of us. _

That was when everything went wrong.

Nathaniel remembered the panic that had risen when he broke the glass and Thea hadn’t woken up right away. He remembered the terror of trying to hide the sword, of leaving himself hasty, cryptic hints and then rushing to his bed before the first rays of light touched him.

He thought he would have more time, but he had only stolen minutes when he woke again, until finally, he’d woken up in his own house, with Kevin and Andrew and Thea standing over him, and half of the King’s Court standing outside.

“Where is it?” Kevin had asked him.

That was when the first of the faeries had burst through the front door. Nathaniel had scrambled for the sharpie and ran upstairs to don his armor.

-+-

Neil remembered all of those things, slumped on the ground, as Kevin told her they had won, as Thea ordered Tetsuji’s body to be moved to the casket, as the court crowded around the monster, as Andrew said Neil’s name over and over and over, until the words bled together.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.


	27. Twenty Seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a nuisance,” Andrew said, and pulled Neil down to kiss him.

Neil woke in an unfamiliar place. He was lying in a large, elaborate, carved bed with a blanket covering him that was lighter than silk, but warmer than goose down. He wanted to burrow back down into the covers and continue sleeping, even though he knew there was some reason he shouldn’t.

He rolled over and saw Andrew sitting across from him, sitting so he was in profile. He was in a tipped-back chair, balancing it with a single booted foot against the wall. He had a book open in his lap and a cigarette between his lips, but he didn’t seem to be turning the pages.

There was something in the way that the soft light of the candles resting beside him defined the planes of his face, something in his heavy lashes and the softness of his mouth that was both familiar and endlessly strange in its beauty.

Neil realized that as many times as he had seen Andrew before, he had never seen him through Nathaniel’s eyes.

He wondered if Andrew would like Nathaniel. If Neil himself would have liked him.

He had heard the story of how Andrew came to be a changeling so many times as his daylight self. But as he watched Andrew, he realized that he had heard the story in the Court, too, as Nathaniel. He had heard Tilda tell it, explaining how she’d chosen Aaron because he was such a beautiful child, warm and sweet and laughing in her arms. She told of the horror of the hot iron scorching Andrew’s skin, the smell of burning flesh and he howl he’d given, so anguished that a banshee would despair to hear it. 

She told how the mortals were indifferent to Andrew’s pain and kept him out of spite, for a curiosity to show off to their friends, how she feared that they would make him the servant of their own son. Nathaniel  had heard about the way that the hobs would peer into his windows at night to make sure he was safe, how they would pile up acorns and chestnuts outside in case he got hungry at night, how they would play with him in the backyard when his human mother’s back was turned and how they would pinch Aaron until he cried.

Thinking of that, Neil turned over, ready to speak, when someone came into the room.

“I have sent you a dozen messages,” Tilda said, sweeping into the room. “You haven’t replied to a single one.”

“Funny,” Andrew said. “It’s almost as if I don’t want to talk to you.”

Neil slit his eyes to see the faerie woman, who leaned against the far wall.

“Has Mary given her blood to Aaron to heal him?” Tilda asked, and Neil could see Andrew’s jaw clench shut.

“Do not say his name.” There was a warning in his tone.

“In a perfect world, you would both be mine,” Tilda said softly. “I would have you both, raise you to be the men that I know you could be.”

“This is not that world,” Andrew said coldly. “And I fear to think of what kind of world it would be if that were the case.”

“Do you think it would be so bad?” Tilda asked. “Letting me raise you?”

Andrew snapped his book shut, pulling his cigarette from his mouth and flicking his ash in Tilda’s direction.

“I think that in a perfect world, you would not exist at all,” he said, and Tilda grew silent for a long while.

When she spoke, it was nearly a whisper. “It is your gift,” she said, “to guess what is in another’s heart. Thea would need someone with your gift, someone by her side that knows the humans as you do. You don’t need to hide any longer.”

“Nothing has changed,” Andrew said. “I’m going home now. Home to Bee, to my family, to my brother. I do not care about this world, not the way I do that one.”

Neil heard the rustle of fabric as Tilda picked up the end of her dress, turning toward the door. “They will never really love you. They will always fear you.”

“Let them,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Let me have this time being human.” His voice was tired, and Neil wanted to reach out and let him know that he heard him, that he was there. He kept quiet. Andrew continued. “You continue to tell me that I will never be human, that the span of a human life is short enough to mean nothing. Fine, then, let me have my human life. Let all of the humans that I care for die and blow away into dust. Let me have Bee for a mother and Charles for a father and Aaron for a brother. Let me have Neil for a partner and Kevin for a friend. Let me be Andrew Dobson, and when I am done, when all is dust and ashes, maybe I will come back.”

She was quiet.

“Let me have this, Tilda,” Andrew said. “Because once they are dead, I can never have it again.”

In his voice, Neil heard the eerie agelessness he always associated with Thea or Tetsuji or Riko. He was one of them, though, eternal and inhuman. But he was going to stay in his world a little longer.

“Fine,” she said finally. “Be Andrew Dobson. But remember that mortality is a bitter draught.”

“And yet I will have the full measure,” he told her, and then she was gone.

Neil meant to open his eyes, to let Andrew know that he was awake, but before he could, he let sleep take him once again.

-+-

The next time Neil woke, it was Kevin who was beside him, sitting on the other side of the bed, propped up by a group of pillows similar to the ones that he was using. One of his hands was bandaged too heavily to use, the other was being used to hold open a history textbook.

Neil forced himself into sitting position.

“Is this Faerieland?” He asked. Kevin shrugged.

“I guess so,” he said. “If there is such a place. I mean, if we all occupy the same dimensional space, then technically I suppose we’re always in Faerieland. But the jury is still out on that.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “What did I miss?”

“A lot,” Kevin said. “They managed to do a decent amount while you were here wasting your time sleeping.”

“Gee,” Neil said, “I’m sorry, Kevin. I guess I just didn’t do enough for the sake of everyone, did I? I’ll be sure to do more next time.”

Kevin frowned. “Whatever.”

Neil let his eyes roam the room. Kevin watched him for a minute before he spoke.

“Andrew isn’t here, if that’s who you’re looking for. He took some more of Mary’s blood to the hospital. We had a hard time convincing them that it was the antidote, but once we did and it started working, they wanted more. Mary let Thea cut her with Heartsworn and bled into a vial.”

Neil grew nervous. “Is she...?”

“Still alive?” Kevin finished. “Still a creepy, terrifying tree monster? Yes to both. Her blood was bright green. It was gross. But when she spoke to us it was almost nice.”

Neil nodded, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest. He looked around the room, this time taking it in rather than searching for Andrew.

“So where are we, then, exactly?” He asked. Kevin looked around with him, as if he had never seen the room before.

“In Tetsuji’s palace,” he said. “Well, Thea’s palace, now.”

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Thea’s?”

“Yes,” Kevin said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She was the one most fit to rule, since Tetsuji is dead and Riko is imprisoned for the rest of his life. She’ll be ruling this branch, now, with Ichirou as a close mentor and ally.” He paused, as if working up the nerve to tell Neil something important. “And... I’ll be staying with her.”

Neil’s other eyebrow rose to meet the other. “You’re  _ staying _ ?”

Kevin nodded. “It only seems right, that I stay and help fix things now that-”

“She loves you?” Neil asked, his face splitting into a grin. Kevin frowned, his cheeks darkening.

“ _ No _ , now that-”

“She loooooves you,” Neil sang, swaying back and forth a bit. “She confessed it in front of everyone, Kevin. Now you  _ have _ to stay with her. Maybe even.... Marry her?” His smile grew even bigger, and Kevin’s face grew redder.

“Shut up,” Kevin said. “Stop that.”

Neil laughed, feeling lighter than he had in years. Maybe this was what Kevin needed. Maybe the music could live again for him. Maybe he could love it the way he never let himself love it before, because it was too terrifying to love something you couldn’t control, because it was too awful to hurt people and love what hurt them. Here he could learn, he could grow, he could be happy.

“I’m going to miss you,” Neil said. “I’m sorry we weren’t honest enough before.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Kevin said, though his frown had since subsided. “We’ll still see each other all the time. It’s not like I’m moving to the other side of the country. I’m still living in the same town.”

“That’s true,” Neil said. “Everything will be fine.”

-+-

Neil didn’t get out of bed for another few hours. When he did, he stripped out of his doublet, revealing a map of bruises and slashes across his torso. His arms were still fully bandaged, and when he looked in the mirror, his face had bandages too, covering his cheek and half of his face. HIs hair was still auburn. His eyes were still blue.

He doubted that would change.

Once he got dressed, he made his way home, taking his time as he walked through the forest and through town, breathing the air as if it were brand new to him.

When he got home, he went straight to the kitchen. Abby and David were there, sitting at the kitchen table. They both stood when he entered the room, and it only took Abby one look at the bandages covering him before she was on top of him, crying and fretting and begging him to let her look at his wounds because “who knows what kind of make-shift medical care they have down there”.

“Kevin’s gone,” Neil blurted. “He’s not coming back.”

“We know,” David said. “He called us to let us know. Little shit didn’t even bother coming home. Something about the fact that he would probably lose his nerve if he did.”

Abby shook her head, shooting David a look. “We’re just so glad you’re okay,” she said, cradling Neil’s face in her hands. “You can tell us details on your own terms. We were just so worried.”

“It’s okay,” Neil said. “I’m fine.”

“Kid, between you and me, I don’t think you’ve ever been fine,” David said, and Neil couldn’t argue as he let his parents pull him in for a hug.

-+-

Within a week, everything seemed as though it had gone back to normal.

Everything seemed to go back to normal, except people called out to Neil in the halls at school, or they waved at him on the streets of town. People, even Seth Gordon, had wanted Neil to tell them what Thea was really like, how he had freed her, what it was like fighting by her side. Matt wanted to see his fighting moves, using a borrowed mop from the janitor’s closet. Three separate times at lunch, Allison made Neil tell the story of Kevin and Thea, and Dan wanted endless reassurance that Sorrow wasn’t going to be coming back for her.

Everyone had something to say to Neil, but no one had much to say to Andrew. He saw people turn away from him in the halls, as if their fear and guilt had combined to make him invisible. Andrew didn’t seem to mind, but Aaron was still right beside him, only now he laughed and smiled and joked with his brother, who never responded, but never stopped him, either. Nicky could be found with them most lunches, making sure Andrew was seen, including him in their conversations whether he wanted to be or not. Andrew even began to allow Kaitlyn to sit with them, and only showed slight annoyance when she and Aaron sat close enough to touch.

Everyone would get over their fear of him soon enough. They would forget that he had magic in his blood.

But not Neil. When he caught Andrew’s eye, his gaze had a fathomless intensity that made him feel as though he were drowning. His mouth lifted at the corner, and Neil felt it like a blow.

Neil caught up with Andrew one day after school. They hadn’t spoken for three days, and he didn’t want Andrew to know how badly he wanted to hear his voice again. He looked different from the way he had before. His ears were a bit more pointy, his face a bit thinner, his hair full of greenish shadows -- but his eyes still flashed when he was interested in something Neil had to say, and he still carried the same bored expression he always did.

“Hey,” he said, bumping his shoulder into Andrew’s. “I heard that you beat Riko so bad that he cried for a week straight.”

“It was three days,” Andrew said. “I could have done better.”

Neil smiled. “Still decently impressive, I guess. It’s definitely not as interesting as beheading a king, but whatever.”

Andrew let out a huff as he pulled out a cigarette. Neil plucked it from his fingers, so he pulled out a second one, too.

“This isn’t the French Revolution,” Andrew said. “No one is impressed with your conquest.”

“I dunno,” Neil said, “I think you might be a little bit impressed.”

“Not impressed,” Andrew said. “Annoyed. Get out of my face before I kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Neil’s smile grew.

“You’re a nuisance,” Andrew said, and pulled Neil down to kiss him.


	28. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down a path worn into the woods, past a stream and a hollowed-out log full of pill bugs and termites, was a glass coffin. It rested right on the ground, and in it was a girl with skin the color of mahogany wood and ears as pointed as knives.

Down a path worn into the woods, past a stream and a hollowed-out log full of pill bugs and termites, was a glass coffin. It rested right on the ground, and in it was a girl with skin the color of mahogany wood and ears as pointed as knives.

Only now, where that coffin once stood, there was nothing but an empty meadow.

The townsfolk still remember the girl who rested there. But what matters is that things have gone back to how they used to be, back when the Folk were kinder, less prone to stealing children and killing tourists and harming the people from town. Some nights they can hear the Folk in the woods, singing and laughing and celebrating a new ruler, one who is kind but stern, strong and beautiful.

She rules from within a hollow hill, where it is said that the most wonderful parties take place, full of late-night blooming flowers. There, a human boy plays the violin with mended fingers while his brother watches him fondly beside his best friend. There, a monster whirls about, branches waving in time with the music. There, the new princess of the Folk takes up the mantle of Queen, embracing a changeling like brother, and, with a human boy at her side, names a boy who is neither fae nor human as her champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!
> 
> Thank you so much for making it this far, and for finishing this out with me.
> 
> As a reminder, please please please pick up the book that this AU is based off of. It does not disappoint, I promise you.
> 
> And again, thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
